The Big Switch
by dave-d
Summary: Kaname visits a medical center with secret facilities, to help research the origin of the Whispers. No good deed goes unpunished. Who will be the hero this time? The answer is not as simple as it might seem.
1. Chapter 1

_And so the story begins…._

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In Tokyo, Uber works as a Taxi-hailing app.

"The cab should be here soon," Sousuke told Kaname. The two were excused from school that day, so he wore casual clothing with a distinct military appearance.

"I'm still not certain I want to do this," Kaname remarked, looking indecisive. She wore her school uniform, trying to make the day seem as close to her daily routine as possible.

"I can be ordered to do things," Sousuke said in a mater-of-fact manner. "You cannot. You are doing a service for Mithril." He looked as if he were about to salute her.

"But… well…." Kaname felt even more uncomfortable, the full weight of being Whispered sitting on her shoulder like a heavy vulture. "They could stop protecting me…." She swallowed "And-" The weight grew heavier yet. In a real sense, the fate of _all _Whispered rested on her today, didn't it? If she could help Mithril discover what the Whispered truly were, and how they came about, shouldn't she do what she could to help?

"It is not a problem," Sousuke said. "While you need protection, I will protect you. If Mithril told me to leave you, I would need to bargain with them again." He had already taken a fifty percent pay cut to stay assigned to Jindai Municipal High School.

_What would he choose to do if they said 'No'?_

"I'll be okay, Sousuke," Kaname said, sighing. Did she want to keep Sousuke as her very own knight in shining armor, rushing to her rescue whenever a dragon appeared? Did she really want his blood on her hands? Why was her heart beating so fast?

The cab arrived. They both climbed in, buckled up, and rode silently until they reached 4-1-17 Toranomon, Minato-ku, Tokyo. After settling the bill and stepping back next to the blue-haired girl, Sousuke looked up at the four-story building, its front façade showing brickwork and a large amount of glass.

"You're not scanning the building thinking about hiding places for snipers, _are_ you Mister?" Kaname made a face. Just because today had be Mithril, it didn't have to be military. Science, yes. Bombs and guns, no.

_That wasn't simply wishful thinking, was it?_

"Negative," Sousuke replied. He put a hand over his eye, trying to block out as much sun as possible.

"Good!" Kaname said, tossing her hair. The strong wind through it back in her face.

Walking into the busy medical center, the two students were met by a trio dressed in white coats.

"Welcome to The Tokyo Neurological center, Miss Chidori," a wizened old man with a prosthetic eye and bad halitosis said. "This is a medical institution that challenges itself and others to develop to revolutionary treatments against diseases and symptoms that have been overlooked and undetected by other specialized institutions."

"We are rather proud to say that all doctors of the TNC are alumni of the Medical Department of the University of Tokyo," a second man said, younger and sporting an enormous spherical mass or red curly hair and large protruding front teeth. "Indeed, we treat things here that other regional facilities will not touch with a ten foot pole."

"Yes, that is true," a slender and attractive woman with green hair and orange highlights said. "It's not just the usual headache… vertigo or dizziness… hyperhidrosis… unknown fever…." She droned on for a minute more as the three professionals and two high school students made their way through the large clean building complex.

"As I have been briefed… I mean informed-" Sousuke Sagara winced when Kaname Chidori gave him a quick elbow to the gut. The three people with them knew who and what the two of them were. The remainder of the hospital staff and all the patrons did not. It annoyed him that the opening spiel seemed like an Informercial. He was not bothered by the elbow. That was par for the course. "-The Tokyo Neurological Center delivers medical care via neurosurgeons, neuro-physicians, orthopedic surgeons, and gynecologists, all of whom are representative medical specialists in Japan. The medical bills are covered by the Japanese National Health Insurance and several international insurances."

"Correct," Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr said, polishing his fake eye and putting it back. "And… thanks to our recent cooperation with Stanford University… we have taken steps away from the mundane and towards the magnificent."

The five people boarded a normal seeming elevator. The buttons went from 'G' on up. There were no lower floors. At least, not until the attractive and curvy young lady used a key to release an optical retina scanner and fingerprint scanner.

"We wanted to use an ass reader," Dr. Alfred Necessiter said, using a hair pick to fluff up his afro. "But it wouldn't fit Miss Uumie's large and curvaceous buttock." Anne Uumellmahaye Esq., a delicate-looking soul, took the man's head in her hand and rammed it into the elevator door, leaving the impression of two large teeth. A portion of said white objects now skittered across the floor.

"Since the nineteenth century at least, humans have wondered what could be accomplished by linking our brains… smart and flexible but prone to disease and disarray… directly to technology… in all its cold, hard precision." Miss Uumellmahaye spoke as if nothing had happened. She handed the distressed doctor a special solvent and an even more advanced adhesive. He reattached his teeth fragments, as he had many times before. "Writers of the time dreamed up intelligence enhanced by implanted clockwork… starships controlled by a transplanted brain… things like that."

"Almost like Al-" Sousuke winced. Kaname had stomped on his feet. "Kaname! These people are aware for the Arbalest's A.I. They helped in development of some of the newer computing algorithms."

"That is correct, Miss Chidori. We are not some backwater charlatans," Dr. Hfuhruhurr claimed. "We are among the best the world has to offer. We have made great strides with Brain-machine interfaces that connect computers and the nervous system. We can restore rudimentary vision in people who have lost the ability to see…treat the symptoms of Parkinson's disease… and we have numerous ways to and prevent epileptic seizures. Those are the simplest of our accomplishments."

"Not only that, we are mastering another frontier," Dr. Necessiter said. "Inventing hardware is not the hardest part. Even with Black Technology… wherever_ that_ comes from…"

"Please save that lecture for the laboratory," Miss Uumellmahaye pleaded.

**"Right!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr said with a quick laugh_. "That_ can wait. We haven't finished with our bragging yet. As my esteemed colleague had been saying, the biggest challenge it's trying to understand, on some level at least, what the brain is trying to tell us and how to speak to it in return-"

"Like linguists piecing together the first bits of an alien language, researchers must search for signals that indicate an oncoming seizure or where a person wants to move a robotic arm." Dr. Necesiter continued. "Improving that communication in parallel with the hardware that will drive advances in treating disease or even enhancing our normal capabilities."

"The lab," Miss Uumellmahaye said forcefully. "Wait. We are almost there."

"Fine, fine," Dr. Necessiter acquiesced.

"The scientific interest in connecting the brain with machines began in earnest in the early 1970s, when computer scientist Jacques Vidal embarked on what he called the Brain Computer Interface project," Dr. Hfuhruhurr remarked. "As he described in a 1973 review paper-" The chatty researcher sounded as if he could give Sousuke a run for his money when it came to long explanations.

"_Enough noise!"_ Anne Uumellmahaye was not just a researcher, she was also a lawyer and an lower level administrator. She whacked the older man on the head. Kaname and Sousuke looked at one another. They both felt self-conscious. Sousuke put a hand to his head, as if feeling a phantom pain. Kaname's clutched one hand, as if she were holding a halisen.

"Although brain-controlled spaceships remain in the realm of science fiction, the prosthetic device is _not,"_ Dr. Necessiter said, not the quickest learner. "Stanford researchers including Krishna Shenoy, a professor of electrical engineering, and Jaimie Henderson, a professor of neurosurgery, are bringing neural prosthetics closer to clinical reality. Over the course of nearly two decades-"

"**_Shhhh-hhh-hh-h!_**" Miss Uumellmahaye smacked him too, even more than his fellow researcher. "You're giving me a headache, and you might scare our volunteer away!"

"But there was always another equally important challenge-" Both men spoke at the same time. Dr. Necessiter bowed to Dr. Hfuhruhurr, a signal for him to continue. It was a decision based on politeness, not self-preservation. "-One that Vidal anticipated: taking the brain's startlingly complex language, encoded in the electrical and chemical signals sent from one of the brain's billions of neurons on to the next, and extracting messages a computer could understand. On top of that, researchers like Shenoy and Henderson needed to do all that in real time, so that-"

"No _No_ **_No NO_** No _No_ **_No NO_**." Alternated strikes landed on both men's heads.

"Kaname. That doesn't look attractive when someone _else_ _does_ it," Sousuke remarked.

Instead of looking sheepish, fire glowed within Kaname's eyes. That misplaced aside had stoked the furnace, not shut it down. There would be a reckoning. Yes. This day or another.

_All things would be remembered._

The group passed through a series of coded gateways, the last few guarded by larger and larger numbers of men in Mithril security uniforms. Sousuke asked the highest-ranking officer if there was an A.S. on site. The answer was 'no'. One would have to be transported to the helicopter landing deck on the roof. There was, however, a small arms room. Sousuke was given the location and the door code.

"Here we are," Miss Uumellmahaye said. She ushered Sousuke and Kaname into a large room that seemed to have little livable space, given the number of odd and wonderful devices that filled its confines. The number of computational devices alone was staggering. That, and the number of different chambers topped by electrodes or large colorful conduits.

"It's like 'Frankenstein'," Sousuke said. "Or 'Bride of Frankenstein'. In the one film-"

"No," Kaname said, rapping Sousuke sharply on the pate. That earned her a quick grin from Miss Uumellmahaye.

"This machine over there, which looks like a robot's vision of a magic mushroom, has features stemming from a less advanced interface, called NeuroPace," Dr. Necessiter said, patting the device affectionately. "The embryonic version was developed in part by Stanford researchers."

"Using electrodes implanted deep inside or lying on the top of the surface of the brain, NeuroPace listens for patterns of brain activity that precede epileptic seizures and then, when it hears those patterns, stimulates the brain with soothing electrical pulses." Dr. Hfuhruhurr added. "This infinitely more advanced equipment may help us determine if outside influence are causing you to download your so-called Whispers. The machine will recognize certain patterns of neural activity… sound an alarm… and synchronize by hyper-speed connection with every radio telescope on the face of the planet."

"Mithril has a secret charitable connection to many telescope operators," Dr. Necessiter noted. "And an under-the-table monetary deal with the others. Some of the arrays were actually built with Mithril money."

"So, in short" Miss Miss Uumellmahaye said. "You get hooked up… we wait for a Whisper event… and we see if we can track things. There may be an alien agent on earth… within a low earth orbit hidden in a blind spot… or somewhere within the solar system."

"If it _is_ aliens," Sousuke said, not ready to accept the existent of extraterrestrial intelligence. "There are any number of science fiction tropes that prove just as likely. Such as time travel-" Sousuke was cut off.

"Time travel!" Dr. Necessiter laughed out loud. "Time travel? _Really?!_ Time travel!"

"Let's keep things in the realm of possibility," Dr. Hfuhruhurr interjected. "And, for safety's sake, Iksnay on the Onay Daliensay."

"What?" Kaname looked like she was beginning to question the sanity of the people here, and the likelihood that any good might come from all this. She was willing to put up with a lot of things. Pig Latin was not one of them.

"Miss Uumellmahaye is a big Erich von Däniken fan," Dr. Necessiter said. "Her license plate says 'Chrt Gdz.' She named her cat Giorgio after Giorgio A. Tsoukalos and her goldfish after Nibiru, a planet that Zecharia Sitchin says the Mesopotamian gods came from. She has Transformers underwear-"

**SMACK**

"Too… much… information…" Miss Uumellmahaye said sharply.

"So… it's best not to shoot down the lovely lady's pet postulate," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "She has a mean left hook… she bites… and her godfather is Dr. Painrose." The last name belonged to the head of Mithril's Intelligence Division.

"You mentioned hooking up," Sousuke said rationally, bringing things back to business. "I doubt that you were implying 'meet up', or 'making a connection between herself and extraterrestrial beings', or the less savory possibility that you were suggesting that she needed to 'begin a relationship with an alien species with the goal to have casual inter-species sex'." He pictured children of little green men and Grays, each with long blue hair.

**"Sousuke!"** Kaname barked.

"And I doubt you meant a slang reference, where she would be 'obtaining illicit drugs to help her do better on future exams or reach a state of-"

_**"**__**SOUSUKE!"**_

Is he like this _all_ of the time?" Miss Uumellmahaye asked Kaname.

"Yes," Kaname answered. She nodded to the two older men. "Them too?"

"Yes," Miss admitted. She and Kaname sighed at the same time.

"As I was saying," Sousuke soldiered on. "By 'hook-up' you would be implying making a connection between components in a system." His eyes narrowed. His voice became somewhat husky. Kaname took notice on an animal level. "If she is to be hooked up to anything, I will make certain it is safe." He remembered all too well the Russian set-up near Lake Kanaka… the nano-den Amalgam funded in the dark recesses of the world's biggest cavern, the Son Doong Cave in Central Vietnam … and the cloning facility being built by the Chinese on Chongming Island, at the heart of Dongping National Forest Park.

_He had rescued Kaname from all three sites._

"Sousuke…." Kanames speech was soft and filled with gratitude this time.

"Over here… over here…" Dr. Hfuhruhurr sounded as if he was about to show off his new grandson or a fancy automobile. "_This_ is where the real magic lays." With an expansive sweep of his arm, he outlined a large ovoid machine, covered by a myriad of colored light bulbs, and connected to countless wires and metal tubes. He and his fellow scientist looked like they were fighting the urge to bow to the machine, or to blow it a kiss. "The Big Ball," he said.

"That's so sexist!" Miss Uumellmahaye complained, making a sour face.

"There's nothing sexy about balls," Dr. Necessiter said, mistaking the meaning of sexist. "Dirty girl! I once liked to think of this miraculous machine as the 'Time And Relative Dimension In Space." He was a huge Dr. Who fan. "But, we are _not _dealing with time, right?" Naturally, no one there had any knowledge about Yamsk 11… December 24… a TAROS unit connected with multiple dolphin brains in containers… the girl, Sophia Barova… or iota and tau waves. "So, I started calling it the Omni Sphere!" He chuckled. "Welcome, Mr. Bond, to the _Ommmmni_spherrrre."

"Sorry," Kaname said. "That name has already been taken." She meant Transfer and Response Omni-Sphere and not Tele-chrono Alternation Reactor Transfer and Response Omni-Sphere. "Don't different branches in Mithril know what the other ones have?" She would have expected these men to be at least familiar with the TAROS. She herself had not yet become clued into to the existence of TARTAROS.

The scientists looked crestfallen. Big Ball and Omni Sphere were spiffy cool names. And, they hated being kept in the dark about _any_ Black Technology devices.

"How about the Magic Egg," Sousuke suggested. He did not mention that Kurz Weber referred to his left testicle by that name. "After all… this chamber is not round…."

"**WHAT A WONDERFUL NAME!"**

All three hospital personnel clapped their hands, for different reasons.

"Yes… hmmm… maybe we can patent that name," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Not only will this Magic Egg prove invaluable today, but less advanced and no-longer-secret secret versions will someday help with Early Diagnosis and Treatment of Alzheimer's Disease… Stem Cell Therapy to Repair and Replenish the Brain… and the Design of Smart Brian Prosthetics." He emphasized words like he was a prize fight announcer.

"And Future Rapid Intervention for Psychiatric Disorders…Unlocking the Promise of the Focused Ultrasound… and The Promise of Brain Biomarkers," Dr. Necessiter added.

"Not to mention New Aspects of Gene Therapy… Molecular Intervention Using Minimally Invasive Technology… and Healing the Brain with Neuromodulation," Dr. Hfuhruhurr tried to top his colleague in flair and cadence.

"Immune Checkpoint Inhibitors for Brain Cancer! Neuroimaging for Neurodegenerative and Psychiatric Disorders! Diagnosing and Treating Neurodegenerative Diseases through the Microbiome!" Dr. Necessiter put his hands on his hips, turned his head, and struck a vintage Superman pose.

"And help old men with no appreciation of time or the needs of other to finally shut up before they are shipped off to a facility where they can practice ESP with goats." Miss Uumellmahaye didn't sound as if she were joking. She had never seen the movie 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' starring George Clooney. There were other Mithril facilities working on mental manipulation. Some were in distant and dreary locales. A few even lacked internet connections.

"Can the Magic Egg instill normal social mores… remove the functions of the otaku genes… or permanently remove a person's foot from his mouth and his head from his a-… hind-portion?" Kaname did not look at Sousuke.

_She didn't have to._

"I'm afraid not," Miss Uumellmahaye said. "Otherwise it would _already_ have done so. And I could become rich selling machine-time to suffering wives worldwide."

**"Right!"** Kaname smiled. "They could tell their men that it was a sports kiosk… hand them some takoyaki or saki… and zap them!" In the U.S., she would have said 'hot dog and a beer.'

"There may be the teensienst weensiest problem" Dr. Necessiter admitted, losing a battle with his conscience. "Although this type of machine _has_ proven successful in human subjects, we need to keep one thing in mind. Brain stimulators are pretty much always on, much like early cardiac pacemakers. Although the consequences are less dire …the first pacemakers often caused as many or more arrhythmias than they treated… there are still side effects-"

"Including, tingling sensations, difficulty speaking, and uncontrollable flatulence," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, pretending to hold his nose. "For cardiac pacemakers, the solution was to listen to what the heart had to say and to turn on only when the heart needed help, and the same idea applies to deep brain stimulation."

"That's why we're developing brain pacemakers that can interface with brain signaling, so they can sense what the brain is doing and respond appropriately." Miss Uumellmahaye remarked.

"Flatulence…." Kaname looked like she might raise a grievance.

"Passing gas would not make you any less of a student or person," Sousuke said. "Not even if you… shart, as Mao says… copious amounts of fecal material. Also, if you are being considerate, I am certain that this facility has fire hoses with sufficient psi to cleanse soiled seats, floors, and-"

**"**_**S-O-U-S-U-K-E-!"**_ Kaname almost peed herself, shouting like that.

"Please," Miss Uumellmahaye pleaded. "You need to keep as tranquil as possible. We will monitor you via EEG, and there are parameters we need to adhere to." She had a tranquilizer dart-gun in her carry bag. The three of them worked on large simian research subjects, too. Urzu-7 might need to take a nappy nap.

"We could slip her a gorilla's dose of Imodium," Necessiter suggested. "Although we might need Rotor Rooter to get her going again."

Miss Uumellmahaye spun about and stopped just short of shouting louder than Kaname had. She began repeating mantras she had learned as a child. "Please take a seat, Miss Chidori. The seat has levers and buttons for adjustments… eight ways…" When Kaname was comfortable, the older woman placed electrodes on her head… a blood pressure cuff on one arm… and a pulse oximeter on one finger. "I will need to start an I.V. line for necessary drugs… for the procedure, and for any necessary recovery."

"I could probably find an anal plug," Dr. Necessiter joked.

"Or one of those air fresheners they hand from taxi mirrors," Dr. Hfuhruhur quipped. No one paid the wannabe comedians any heed.

Sousuke raised an objection, still concerned about Kaname's health and safety. Kaname told him she was a big girl and would make decisions herself. She said that life as Whispered was risk enough by itself. Miss Uumellmahaye told Kaname what types of thoughts were best to think, which were acceptable, and which should be avoided at all costs. The two doctors suggested that the mission would go smoother if one of the two women was naked. Sousuke made it a point to put a new clip of bullets in. He merely said 'rubber out, hollow points in.'

_There was nary a peep after that._

"It's time, gentleman." Miss Uumellmahaye began pushing buttons and turning dials. Various esoteric pieces of machinery sprung to life… began humming out of tune… powering up banks and rows of blinking lights… and throwing off rainbow halos of light. There was an eerie tooting sound. Willy Wonka would have loved things.

The two scientists began their own checklist of preparatory work, as they regaled a vigilant Sousuke with subjects close to their hearts. More machinery joined the chorus, and colorful LEDs flashed, looking like red, blue, and yellow fireflies in a vast Conga line.

"Miss Uumellmahaye," Kaname yawned after a weak sedative was added to her I.V. bag.

"Please, call me Anne," the other woman said.

"Okay, Anne," Kaname said, following the other woman's request. "What makes you suspect that aliens are behind the Whispers?" At that time, no one in Mithril had a clue about the actual source of the future information transfer.

"What humans today could create Black Technology?" Anne said. "You'd need Black Technology just to create Black Technology. That's a circular argument."

"But… there are a lot of mysteries on Earth, and-" Kaname did not sound very convinced.

"Yes, there are, "Anne said. "The Great Pyramid of Giza… Machu Pichu… the Nazca Lines… Pumapunku… the ancient Baghdad batteries….and countless others."

"I know but- "Kaname was cut off again.

"And how about the genius of Johannes Kepler… Leonardo da Vinci … Isaac Newton… Charles Darwin… Marie Skłodowska Curie… Stephen Hawking… Steve Jobs… and Mark Zuckerberg?" Anne asked. "They all had a level of insight out of place for the given day. And, seeing that none of them reported abduction type episodes… and none of the mysteries of antiquity have provided physical evidence of aliens on the Earth itself… there is a high probability that aliens have the means to beam knowledge into the brains of a select few humans. You will doubtless be someone very important, someone very famous, or both."

"Don't forget James Clerk Maxwell, the Father of Electromagnetism," Dr. Hfuhruhurr tossed in a pertinent genius. "He was the first to think of light as an electromagnetic radiation. He laid the foundation for the atomic theory. He also discovered the electromagnetic spectrum of light, and color photography." He pulled at his lower lip. Neither gal paid him the slightest attention. "He turned to his compatriot and shrugged.

_They still had a captive audience of one._

Dr. Necessiter brought up one of their fellow scientist's work at the medical center. "Mister Sagara, did you realize that the Frankensteinian notion of head…or, more accurately, body… transplants moved closer to reality Friday with the announcement that the first head swap has been carried out on human corpses." He began making fine adjustments on something that looked like a cross between a blender and a breeder reactor. "Damn it. Nessie, have you seen the blue widget?" Furby was Hfuhruhur.

"The next step," Dr. Necessiter told Sousuke, "Is a head transplant between two brain-dead organ donors." He was working on a machine that looked like a gigantic Lava Lamp. "Hey! Nessie! Have you seen the red doohickey?" Nessie was Necessiter.

Sousuke took a pen and a piece of paper out of his pocket. Were these words ones he should know? He wanted to do well in English class. He wrote down 'widget' and 'doohickey'.

"_Ex_-Mithril researcher Dr. Canavero announced at a press conference in Vienna on Friday that a surgical team led by his collaborator in China…Xiaoping Ren… had successfully transferred a head from one human cadaver to another," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, sounding skeptical. "The maverick surgeon said details of the surgery… led by a team from Harbin Medical University in China… would be released within days by a surgical journal." He had moved over to a large power converter that opened and closed continuously like an accordion. "Damn it all. I need the special thingamabob!" He wondered what the young military maniac was scribbling down.

'What did someone have to do to become 'Ex-Mithril,' Sousuke wondered. He also thought a more significant thought. 'Just what kind of research might Amalgam have going on out in the world?' He stood taller, and his mind sharpened against itself, like obsidian chipped by a harder stone.

_What if one of __these_ three_ might be an Amalgam plant?_

"After experimenting on mice, rats, dogs and primates, the first full rehearsal on a human body has taken place, Canavero announced with his signature theatrical flair." Dr. Necessitter sounded envious. Envious, and infatuated. He put on a welder's helmet before opening a door to a furnace-like device. He placed a large crystal in long metallic tongs and loaded it into place. "I hope the dingus works this time."

_"This_ time?" Kaname said, trying to focus on her own concurrent conversation solely. "But… _why_ do we need to find the aliens, if they do exist…" She had seen too many monster movies while she lived in America. Human-alien relations rarely ended up beneficial to both parties. 'Independence Day'. 'The Thing'. 'They Live'. 'Predator. 'Earth Versus the Flying Saucer's. 'Mars Attack's. 'Critters'. "I mean-"

"I know what you must be thinking," Anne said. "But… think of it this way… if they are good and have been our benefactors and maybe even protectors, we should thank them… don't you think? I mean, they may be waiting for us to be advanced enough to find them. They will show us our way about the stars." She had a far-away look in her eyes and clasped her hands together as if in prayer.

"And if they're bad?" Kaname had become quite the skeptic, seeing how her life had taken a wrong turn many times. She hugged her arms tight across her chest.

"Then, we better find out sooner than later, _right?"_ Anne said, twirling her long locks. "We can't just sit back and wait. We can't hope for a happy 'War of the Worlds' type of miracle. And who knows. Maybe H.P. Lovecraft knew things that we don't know." She frowned. The two other professionals had begun speaking louder to drown out her words. She nibbled on one fingernail, stopping when she realized what she was doing.

"Yes indeed, the first human transplant on human cadavers has been done," Dr. Necessiter said. "A full head swap between brain dead organ donors is the next stage." He then mentioned that an operation on a live human being will be imminent, before checking the readout on a massive computer. When one dial didn't seem to read right, he banged on it with his fist. When that didn't work, he decided to take more drastic action. "I need that gewgaw!"

"Some people say that we stand on the brink of a revolution, not only in medicine but in human life as well," Dr. Hfuhruhurr tossed a large glowing mallet over his shoulder. "But, revolutions don't always end well," he added under his breath. "Why doesn't some yokel come up with cranial screw-top brain surgery or something? This stuff has the makings of a bad movie."

"Thanks," Dr. Necessiter said, after catching the mallet. "Did you say something more? No? Canavero is the audacious and controversial creator of HEAVEN… the 'Head Anastomosis Venture" project. The most recent plan would see two teams of surgeons swiftly cut off the heads of two people…one, a person whose body is crippled by, for example, a neurological disease or car crash… the other from a brain-dead organ donor." He banged away with his mallet until the computer read what he wanted.

"The healthy head would be shifted onto the donor body using a custom-made swivel crane," Dr. Hfuhruhurr clarified. "Next, surgeons would reconnect and stitch up the trachea, esophagus, the carotid arteries and jugular veins… link up the spinal cords and wait for the recipient to reawaken… and most importantly, move and talk." He held a round storage core that he wanted to insert into a square aperture. "I need that gimcrack back." He jumped high to retrieve the mallet before it became entangled in a large web-like crown of wires sitting abreast a chittering machine.

"Still," Kaname said. "Thoughts being injected into human brains… originating from outer space… that seems a bit crazy…." She swallowed hard, seeing a researcher banging away at sensitive instruments with the Hammer of Thor, or so it seemed. A bead of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades.

"I see," Anne smiled. "That coming from a high school girl who knows how to build a palladium reactor… and knows the Lambda Driver like the back of her hand." She knew that Kaname only knew those things in the Whispered state; she had yet to learn how to recall that information on command.

_That might change today._

"I don't really understand those things… it's… well… it's hard to explain…." Kaname wished that she didn't need a near death experience to remember Black Technology. No. She wished that someone could just remove it all from her head. "Do you think that you guys might be able to take that stuff out from my brain, someday?"

"I really can't say," Anne said sadly. "Nowadays, all of the non-Black technology is being used for studies on putting thoughts _in._"

"That sounds ominous," Sousuke said, catching Anne's words. "I will not allow any man to put something in Kaname against her will." That didn't sound right. He blinked rapidly for a few moments.

"Let me explain," Anne continued, her face flushed. "An international team of scientists from Spain, India, France, and the United States has succeeded in transmitting the thoughts from one person to another. Two greetings… 'hola' and 'ciao'… made the historic trip from India to France, where they were received and spoken by the receiver, who was blindfolded and wore earplugs. That person's colleague… the sender… was five thousand miles away."

"How?" Kaname was somewhat interested, despite her best efforts. "How did the transmission work." Something didn't have to be Black Technology to be amazing.

"An EEG captured the brain activity of the sender… machines converted the letters of the two words into binary code…the code was sent to a computer… and then over the internet… making its way to France. Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation on the receiving end enhanced the electric signals in a key part of the recipient's brain, essentially injecting information into that brain."

"That would be a good way to learn Classical Japanese History," Sousuke interjected. He was still listening to both conversations. His struggles with that school subject were well known. The two men physically spun him around so they had his full attention.

"It works like this." Necessiter said. "An electromagnetic coil attached to the skull emits magnetic pulses which in turn generate electric currents that stimulate certain neurons in the brain."

"Newer research is making great leaps at exponential speed," Dr. Hfuhruhurr rushed to put in. "Who knows what an eons old civilization could do with that premise?" He cursed. Now that Miss Uumellmahaye had _him _speaking about aliens

Sousuke wasn't concerned about aliens. His view of the world was a very cynical one. He had come by that way of thinking honestly. His concern was simple. What could political leaders… religious leaders… military leaders… or people of wealth and power… do with a machine that could implant thoughts or commands into the world's populace?

_Just because science could do something, did not necessarily mean that it __should__ do something!_

"Of course, our work here could still be a dead end, if the aliens used some other method," Anne said. "For example, there is also the concept of gene jumping… horizontal gene transfer… things like that." She gave Kaname a brief explanation that flew way above her head, and then added "Viruses can transfer one type of animal's genetic material into another, where it's incorporated one way or another into the other creature's genetic material. That has happened countless times amongst invertebrates and lower species. And, at the dawn of mankind, lesser primate genetic materials were transferred to the earliest humans. If Mother Nature herself can do something like that, what could aliens do? The Whispers _could_ have a genetic origin." She brought into view a small leather bad which she opened. She took out a tourniquet, a syringe, a sterile needle, and blood collection tubes. "I will need to collect some of your blood, Kaname. There are other studies done down here in The Dungeon."

"You should take _his _blood," Kaname said, nodding in Sousuke's direction. "He seems like an alien often enough." She bit at her lip. "Or a Terminator." She pictures Sousuke saying 'I'll be back!'

"Yes," Dr. Necessiter said, "I've heard he's like something out of 'WarHammer 40,000'."

"Oh, don't be an ignoramus," Dr. Hfuhruhurr laughed. "Genetically altered super-soldiers… the most powerful fighting forces available to the Imperium of Man? Posh. _Pfffbt!"_ He smiled. "He's like something out of 'DOOM'."

"Idiots," Miss Uumellmahaye griped. "You are talking about the good guys, not the aliens."

"Blah blah blah," Dr. Necesitter said. "You just admitted that your precious aliennnsss are the bad guys."

"And," Dr. Hfuhruhurr added. "The analogy still fits. And, speaking of aliens. You're like Sil in 'Species'. Miss Chidori is like the main character Mariella in 'Blue Haired Alien Girlfriend'. Get it. Because she has blue hair and…."

"I am _not_ his girlfriend," Kaname spat out looking at Sousuke. His expression changed very little. The edge of his mouth slid down an iota.

"I see," Miss Uumellmahaye said. "Young love…."

"Where were we, Sousuke?" Dr. Necessiter asked, upending boxes of tools and solutions looking for something in particular. "Where in the brain-burning blazes is that gollderned gizmo?"

"Please don't mention Gizmo," Dr. Hfuhruhurr chided his fellow researcher. "We don't need any gremlins today." The type of gremlins that he really thought about were more akin to the Loony Tunes creatures reeking havoc on a WWII bomber, than the furry ones in the Joe Dante movie that should be kept dry, and should never be fed after midnight… the ones that looked a lot like Furbies. Or, was it the other way around? "Bio-ethicists have accused the 'noggin exchange' surgeon of being reckless. Transplant surgeons say nobody has ever been able to repair a spinal cord that has been cut clean through. They're working on that here, now. But they're still years away."

"But Canavero insists that he has developed a way to coax axons and neurons to grow across the gap between the two severed spinal cords using a special glue-like substance developed by a B.C. researcher," Necessiter said, sounding a bit hurt. He idolized the Italian neurosurgeon. "Sergio said… and I quote…'I understand humans love the gory side of the surgery, but this is a medical procedure for a medical condition for people who are suffering awfully. So, it's not a joke'." The delicate tool that he was using to adjust atmospheric pressure broke when he applied too much force. "Shit. I need a new whatsit."

"Serrrrgioooo's critics say that even if it proves technically feasible and the person survives, there's no basis for the supposition that the transplanted head …and brain… will retain the person's mind, personality or consciousness once it's hooked up to its new body." Playing Devil's Advocate was one of Dr. Hfuhruhurr's favorite pastimes.

Anne laughed at the look on the other woman's face. With her own history of romantic entanglements, she had no right to tease anyone about love. "Please put the headphones on, Kaname. It's a way for me to send you instructions when the machinery gets noisy." She had to keep her temper in check. The rising crescendo of conversation meant that she was close to shouting herself. She could have said 'when the two mouthy males got noisier'. "It's also a way to listen to music. Please select any radio channel you like. We have Sirius, Pandora, Spotify, and Line Music, if you prefer them. Also, the sound system can accept MP3s and CDs, if you want to bring your own music next time." She walked over to a large control console, with blinking icons, star maps, and multiple telephones of different colors.

Dr. Necessiter and Dr. Dr. Hfuhruhurr had started a shoving match, with Sousuke valiantly striving to serve as a referee of sorts. This was super science in action, not a rugby scrum.

"I will now work on aiming the various radio telescopes that are on the side of the earth we want," Anne continued, growing irritated past her boiling point. She swatted at Dr. Necessiter and missed. She kicked out and caught Dr. Hfuhruhurr on the shin, hard. He began hopping on one foot like a kangaroo amputee, before glaring at the young woman. "I will orient individual arrays on the most like sources of alien life, such as Proxima-B… the TRAPPIST-1 system… LHS 1140b…. Ross 128b… GJ1214b… Europa… Enceladus… and Titan. I will give blanket coverage to any sector having known planets with a gaseous atmosphere and liquid seas."

"As I was saying," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "What good is a head transplant, anyway? The poor pitiful person will encounter huge difficulties in incorporating the new body with its pre-existing body schema and body image. You should remember that review article, the one the Italian scientists wrote in 2015… in Surgical Neurology International-" That journal that had rejected Dr. Necessiter a dozen times. "-They wrote that similar problems have occurred in cases of face and hand transplants. The result, they said, could have serious psychological repercussions… namely insanity, and even death."

"What Canavero has said is his true goal…which he revealed to the Post last year-" Dr. Necessiter started. The Post was the newspaper that had been very critical of articles that Dr. Hfuhruhurr had submitted to other publications. "-Is life extension via brain transplants…the idea that, as we age, we could have our brains transplanted into more youthful bodies… though… well… it's not clear where those bodies would come from…."

"It will be murder!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr claimed loudly. "The rich will take from the poor. The strong will take from the weak. People will be treated worse than cattle!"

"It will be a revolution the likes of which have never been seen before," Dr. Necessiter shouted.

"There's no time for this chatter and childishness now," Anne demanded.

"Sousuke, if you stop paying attention, maybe they'll stop-" Kaname looked peeved. "Listen to me! Now, Mister!"

"Did you say something, Kaname?" Sousuke was distracted. His hand was in his pants pocket. There was a taser there. He was running through possible options. He could set low voltage levels that would do less than stun.

"Is it childish to speak the truth?" Dr. Hfuhruhurr asked. "Man is the only animal that can question the deeper philosophical questions, just as humankind is not so kind, creating so man deeper philosophical questions. If you have someone else's DNA running through your system, then who the hell are you?"

"Broflake!" Dr. Necessiter shook his fingers at his fellow scientist.

_"Snowflake!"_ Dr. Hfuhruhurr shook his fingers right back

"**THAT'S IT!"**

Anne rushed forward, arms extended, intending to grab each vociferous man by the ears, and force them into submission. Both of her targets bent over and lurched forward, intending to duck under her grasping talons. All three foreheads met with a resounding 'thud.' The two scientists and the scientifically trained lawyer turned administrator felt dazed, wobbling on Jello legs, their sense of direction scrambled. Each began falling backwards, trying to maintain their balance with rotating or flailing limbs. Anne, in particular, looked like a drugged or drunken ballerina. Dr. Hfuhruhurr fell impossibly slow, like a sloth caught in a Freeze Ray. Dr. Necessiter fell like the toppled statue of a despised dictator pulled down by an angry crowd.

_All headed towards one activated machine or another._

"Just… be careful…" Dr. Necissiter said, gyrating like a spastic top. "Whatever you do…."

"Don't… hit… **The Big Switch**…" Dr. Hfuhruhurr finished.

Dr. Necessiter's hand pushed in a large red button. He frantically began working on the machine. "We can fix this."

Dr. Hfuhruhurr's elbow slid along a large wheel marked with arcane symbols. "This, too!" He began his own race against time.

"_Whew!"_ Anne reached up to dab a cloth at her forehead. "We lucked out, you imbeciles."

"Uhhh." Sousuke pointed at something. "Is _that_ switch the 'Big Switch' you mentioned?"

Miss Uumellmahaye's other hand coved a huge brass and silver switch, which had been thrown during all the commotion.

"**F-U-C-K-!"** All three adults blurted that out simultaneously.

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ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt…

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ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZAP… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZAP… ZAP…

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ZAP… ZAP… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt… ZAP… ZZZZ-zzzz-zzz-zz-zt…

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ZAP… ZAPZAP… ZAP… ZAPZAPZAPZAP…ZAP…ZAPZAPZAPZAPZAP…ZAAAA_AAA_AA_AP

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***B-A-N-G***

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The base alarms sounded.

Electric arcs danced from machine to machine.

Balls of super-excited ions floated about like Will O' Wisps, exploding when they struck solid matter. Sprites, trails of red and pink lightning looking like the tendrils of a giant jellyfish, streamed between the floor and ceiling, and moved closer and closer to the Magic Egg.

'Emissions of Light and Very low frequency perturbations due to Electromagnetic pulse Sources'…also known as ELVES… spread as small rings of glowing gasses, changing the course of the other phenomena. The walls of the room all glowed a ghostly palette, like a vivid aurora.

"It's a resonance cascade!" Dr. Necessiter looked frantic. He played way too many video games on the Center's mainframe computer system. "These energies will rip open holes in the dimensional fabric of reality." He did his best demented Paul Revere imitation: "The head crabs are coming… the head crabs are coming… the-" He shut up after receiving a karate chop on the nape. It was from Sousuke.

"Kaname is in danger," Sousuke said, rather than 'we're in danger' or even 'the whole world may be in danger'. "You need to keep your wits about you, to do the things only you can do. I will do what I do!" He spun on his heels and began rushing towards Kaname, who could not reach all of her restraints. He rolled under glowing rings and leaped over floating discharges of pulsing energy.

"_DON'T CROSS THE STREAMS!"_

After Dr. Hfuhruhurr called out, he watched transfixed, as the dancing Sprites scattered across the room this way and that, like fleeing mice or cockroaches after the lights came on. The one nearest Sousuke moved more like a squirrel in traffic. There was no way he could predict its pattern. He passed through it.

"**Look out!"** Anne shouted.

Just as Sousuke reached out and touched Kaname, Sprites, ELVES, and other strange emissions enveloped the two Jindai students. Soon, both seemed to be enveloped by a blinding white nimbus of light, which threw out pseudopods of glowing ions, looking like a photonic amoeba or something from an early Star Trek television episode. That shape of light split in two, with each half looking like humanoid shapes emerging from each of their bodies. Those shapes seemed to spin, twisting and twerking, as if they were dancing. One entered Sousuke, while the other made its way into inside Kaname.

The base alarms shut down when the weird light show ceased. An emergency response team dressed in HazMat suits arrived, shutting down machinery and taking numerous readings with hand-held devices of miraculous nature. A small army of men and women in three-piece suits made phone calls on cell phones. Medical personnel dressed in scrubs and white jackets entered the laboratory to examine the five victims.

Unconscious for a short while, Sousuke and Kaname were eventually helped to their feet.

"How are you, young man?" A neurologist asked Sousuke.

"I am not sure," Kaname answered. "I have never felt that way before, not even when the Lambda Driver malfunctioned. It almost felt if everything I am was shot out my mouth, only to be sucked back in through my anus."

**"Wow!"** Dr. Necessiter said. "Never thought that a girl would talk _that_ way. I like her even more now!"

"And how are you doing, young miss?" A neurosurgeon walked over and took out a penlight to shine on Kaname's pupils. He had not seen the girl answer before.

"I'm… I'm not sure…." Sousuke said. "It was nothing like the Whispers. I felt as if everything I knew was flowing out, and not something flowing in.' He made a face. "Anus? _Really?_ There are ladies present!" He stopped. "S-Sousuke?" Something was definitely wrong. He rubbed his eyes. This must be a dream. He must be still in the machine. No, _not_ he. The mind thinking was definitely feminine. It was quite definitely Kaname's. "I-"

The two teenagers looked at one another. Sousuke looked at his own body. Kaname looked at hers.

"This is not my body," Sousuke said. "I do not have protuberances." The breasts on 'his' body bounced slightly

"My pants are tight," Kaname blurted out, trying to make her mind go blank. She did not want to think about the obvious reason 'her' underwear might be stretched to its limit.

**"Excellent!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr was obviously not the most empathic man on the planet. "Mind and body transfer! That's better than head transplants, Nessie!"

_"Oh my,"_ Miss Uumellmahaye said.

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End of chapter 1

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Sousuke in Kaname's body?

Kaname ins Sousuke's?

Oh my, indeed.

_The researcher names come from a movie I shall not name. Anyone remember it? The general plot line is not original. It has been done in seeming dozens of Disney versions of Freaky Friday and other stories._

_BTW: much of the scientific information mentioned was __not__ made up for this story. That's what made the first chapter fun to write._


	2. Chapter 2

**LABORATORY**

What

**Whaaaaaaat**

_WHAAAAAAATTTT_

_**WHAT**_…._**THE**_….**_HELL!_**

Right at the point of understanding what had happened… before the base personnel rushed into the laboatory to secure the serious situation… Kaname, Sousuke, and the three witnesses all shouted exclamations. One or all could have participated in one or all of the exclamations. No one took notice of the profanity.

They were all too distracted.

"It was like an out of body experience at first," Kaname stated, when questioned by hospital internists and psychiatrists who arrived shortly after emergency claxons sounded. She scowled at Dr. Necesitter, who… despite being vigorously examined by medics himself… was trying to scribble down her ever word on any piece of paper or parchment he could dig up. There was a scientific paper in the making.

"Indeed," Sousuke corroborated. "I too felt as if I perceived the world from a location outside my physical body."

"An OBE is a form of autoscopy…literally 'seeing self'…although the term autoscopy more commonly refers to the pathological condition of seeing a second self, or doppelgänger." A base psychiatrist mentioned what he had been taught in residency.

"Yes," an internist said. He was a big fan of books on pseudo-science, and books on real science that seemed like pseudo-science to the uninitiated. "The term out-of-body experience was introduced in 1943 by G. N. M. Tyrrell in his book 'Apparitions', and was adopted by researchers as an alternative to belief-centric labels such as 'astral projection', 'soul travel', or 'spirit walking'."

"I believe that I was speaking." The psychiatrist sounded peeved. He stared down the young woman physician. "OBEs can be induced by brain traumas, sensory deprivation, near-death experiences, dissociative and psychedelic drugs, dehydration, sleep, and electrical stimulation of the brain."

"I didn't sleep much night thinking about this day," Kaname mentioned. "I didn't have anything to drink since yesterday, as instructed. Some kind of drug was put in my I.V. line. I nearly freaking died." It felt weird speaking in Sousuke's voice. What would it be like shouting in that voice:

"AND I HAD A GOOD BIT OF ELECTRIC STIMULATION OF MY BRAIN."

"That was a sedative," Miss Uumellmahaye said.

"Not much of one, apparently." The internist remarked. "I have some with me." She nodded towards her little black bag of pharmaceuticals.

"Not right now," the psychiatrist said sourly. "Neuroscientists and psychologists regard OBEs as dissociative experiences arising from different psychological and neurological factors. We don't want to mess with either of their brain chemistry any more at this moment." Intent on speaking about OBEs, he wandered away from the fact that Sousuke and Kaname had swapped their minds, if not their brains. They didn't feel like they were out of their bodies… they _were_ out of their bodies. This is what happens when too many intellectuals are in the room.

"I agree," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Although, in this case the modality is more mechanical than psychiatric. Perhaps somewhat akin to magnetic stimulation of the brain, as with the God Helmet developed by Michael Persinger. Or, Electrical stimulation of the brain, particularly the temporoparietal junction. Hmmm. Maybe some offshoot of the accident caused direct stimulation of the vestibular cortex."

"Let's not forget the fact that sensory overload can cause OBE," Dr. Necessiter added, not to be outdone. "Sensory overload… the opposite of sensory deprivation… causes the brain to shut itself off from all sensory input causing confusion and this disorientation, often permitting the subject to experience vivid, ethereal out-of-body experiences."

"_COULD SOMEONE GIVE THOSE TWO SCREW-UPS A SEDATIVE. PLEASE!"_

Kaname looked like she was hyperventilating. Well, Sousuke's body, anyway. In a calmer voice she said "You two were there watching, right. Were we really were out of our bodies, somehow? I mean… oh… I don't even know what I mean."

"Indeed, in the fields of cognitive science and psychology OBEs are considered dissociative experiences arising from different psychological and neurological factors. Scientists consider the OBE to be an experience from a mental state, like a dream or an altered state of consciousness without recourse to the paranormal." The internist spoke as if he were lecturing medical students. "Writers within the fields of parapsychology and occultism have written that OBEs are not psychological and that a soul, spirit or subtle body can detach itself out of the body and visit distant locations. Out-of-the-body experiences were known during the Victorian period in spiritualist literature as 'travelling clairvoyance'."

"That's nonsense," the psychiatrist began. "That-" He was interrupted by Sousuke.

"I would like to hear this," he remarked. "With what Miss Chidori and I have been through, it would be foolish for us to ignore any possibility at this time. Although, I ask that you do not be overly dramatic or frightening in your description… he… I mean she… is in a fragile state. She often-"

"Well… thank… you… so… very… much… Sousuke…" Kaname tapped one of Sousuke's feet rapidly. "It's wonderful that you make me out to be some kind of psycho!" With each word that followed she stepped sharply on her own body's toes until she realized what she was actually doing. Her usual reactions would be self-destructive and self-defeating now, in a literal sense.

"The girl could certainly use a thorough work-up," the psychiatrist said.

"Tell me about it," the internist added. Turning to Kaname's body he said "Sylvan Muldoon embraced the concept of an etheric body to explain the OBE experience. The psychical researcher Ernesto Bozzano had also supported a similar view describing the phenomena of the OBE experience in terms of bilocation in which an 'etheric body' can release itself from the physical body in rare circumstances. In April 1977-"

"Do we_ really_ need all of the names and dates?" Kaname had developed mental antibodies against Sousuke's occasional geyser-like eruptions of errata. It seemed they reacted to too much information from _anyone_.

"I suppose not," the internist replied. To him, things sounded cooler that way. But, anything for his patients. "Once upon a time, a patient from Harborview Medical Center claimed to have experienced an out-of-body experience. During her OBE she claimed to have floated outside her body and outside of the hospital. She would later tell her social worker that during the OBE she had observed a tennis shoe on the third floor window ledge to the north side of the building. That social worker would go to the north wing of the building and by looking out of the window could see a tennis shoe on one of the ledges. The story has since been used in many paranormal books as evidence a spirit can leave the body."

"When Kaname hits me sometimes," Sousuke said to himself, "I sometimes feel like my soul is about to leave my body."

"Did you say something, Sousuke?" Kaname fought to keep her temper in check. She didn't want to bruise herself. She felt the need to lecture Sousuke right then and there about the sanctity of her body. He never took the best or safest care of himself, so maybe his own body didn't count. But, she was an athlete and always ate very well, keeping herself in tip top shape.

"I suggest you two kiss and make up," Dr. Necessiter said, carrying a metal dome with a chin strap on it. The dome was topped by something that looked a lot like a weather vane. A long cord connected the helmet to an intact piece of machinery.

"He means that literally," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, carrying his own helmet. It was topped by something that resembled an anemometer. "You should give each other a long deep kiss. What an experience _that_ would be."

"You could compare it later," Anne added. "When you both make-out in your _real_ bodies."

"No doubt Kaname would say something like 'that will never happen with me and that melancholy military maniac'," Sousuke said, trying to keep Kaname from flying off the handle. Their emotions were supercharged and at the same time bottomed-out. The tension was quite palpable. He sounded somewhat depressed. Kaname stared at him. Was he truly sad saying that, or was it just a side effect?

"What are these… helmets… for?" Kaname wasn't too pleased to have Dr. Necessiter strap his on without a warning and without having asked permission. She looked over at Sousuke. She… he… was strapping it on himself, the big idiot.

"I have a rough idea of what might have happened," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Not _how, _ necessarily… just what. And, I have a concern about the temporal nature of things. There may only be so much time before the switch is no longer reversible-"

"Assuming we can find some way to reverse things," Dr. Necessiter offered 'helpfully'.

"What they are trying to say," Anne said "Is that those devices will measure psionic impulses in your brains, including their level, and their rate of decay. While we have no references to compare them to, there are data points from computer simulations that can serve adequately."

The scientists worked on various machines… consulted numerous algorithms… and began recording signals from the transposed teenagers. All the while, they were debating the theory of the quantum mind, a group of hypotheses which propose that classical mechanics cannot explain consciousness.

"It posits that quantum mechanical phenomena, such as quantum entanglement and superposition, may play an important part in the brain's function and could contribute to form the basis of an explanation of consciousness." That was Dr. Necessiter, who was rummaging through cabinets looking for heavy metals in crystal form. "Quantum physics may provide an explanation to what happened to Miss Chidori and Mister Sagara."

'Those hypotheses of the quantum mind remain hypothetical speculation," Dr. Hfuhruhurr remarked. He was emptying out baskets and boxes of small parts made of glass and other transparent materials. "The hypotheses aren't based on empirical evidence. It is true that quantum mechanics is extremely strange, and on extremely small scales for short times, all sorts of weird things happen. And in fact, we can make weird quantum phenomena happen. But what quantum mechanics doesn't change about the universe is, if you want to change things, you still have to _do_ something. You can't change the world by thinking about it." What he couldn't find in the containers, he began plucking off machinery, leaving sticky notes about what needed to be replaced.

"And you can't use quantum mechanics as an excuse for _everything_," Anne put it. "'Johnnie, where's your homework,' the teacher asks. The old answer was 'My dog ate it.' For the new age, the answer might be 'Quantum mechanics ate it'."

"I should write that down," Sousuke said, asking for a pen.

"Don't make me get quantum with you Mister," Kaname said. She didn't sound like she was joking.

The two gabbing scientists began working under dissecting microscopes to create two large pieces of jewelry out of cannibalized parts. They presented one to Kaname and one to Sousuke, asking them to slip them on. Both did.

"What is this ring for?" Kaname asked. "I remember seeing something like this when I was in America."

"I am not surprised," Dr. Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "What you know doubt saw were mood rings, or some other form of mood jewelry."

"Yes," Dr. Necessiter said. "And that is rather ironic, since the device you have there is much like a modern and magnificent mood ring, with advanced technology."

"Will it improve Kaname's mood?" Sousuke was curious, but hadn't thought things through before voicing his curiosity. He blinked rapidly when he heard Kaname growl. Its sounded far more ominous in his body's vocal utterances.

"A mood ring is a specialized liquid crystal thermometer, wearable on the finger," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "The ring is typically ornamented with a gemstone…usually made of quartz or glass…which is either a clear capsule filled with thermochromic liquid crystal, a heat changing liquid, or has a thin sheet of liquid crystal sealed underneath. Changes in temperature cause the crystal to reflect different wavelengths of light which changes the color of the stone. The liquid crystal used in mood rings is usually set up to display a 'neutral' color at the average human skin temperature.

"That is correct," the psychiatrist confirmed, intruding into the conversation. "Most rings come with a color chart indicating the supposed mood of the wearer based upon the colors indicated on the ring. For example-"

"The psychobabble part is not as interesting as the science," the internist remarked. She had a collection of mood rings, among other iconic novelties. "The thermotropic liquid crystals inside of the stone or the band of the mood ring are usually made from a flat strip of liquid crystals with a protective coating. These crystals react to changes in temperature by twisting. The twisting changes their molecular structure, which alters the wavelengths of light or color that are reflected or absorbed. When the temperature of the liquid crystals changes so will their color and this is how mood rings work."

"Why thank you Mister Wizard," the psychiatrist said. "As I was saying, your mood is correlated with your body temperature. When you are stressed, cold blood is directed to the internal organs and away from the skin and the mood ring will turn a darker color. If you are happier or feeling passionate, the crystal will twist in another direction and start to change color as your body temperature increases. Therefore, there is a correlation with mood and your body temperature. So, to some degree, a mood ring _can_ show your emotion."

"Horse shit," the internist swore. He missed the fact that Dr. Dr. Hfuhruhurr and Dr Necessiter were enjoying the heated exchange. Anne, not so much. She was motioning for some administrator types to clear the room. "There are other factors that can cause the mood ring to change that are unrelated to mood, such as such as just finishing a workout or having a hot bath."

"Looks like I will need to answer that question about colors," Anne said as the internist and psychiatrist were led from the room, sent back to their daily work. "The warmest temperature is violet, and the coolest temperature, black. So, moving from coolest to warmest… Black indicates fear, angst, a feeling of seriousness, being overworked, depressed. Yellow indicates anxiety, coolness, caution, distraction, mellowness. Orange means mixed feelings, confusion, upset, a state of being challenged, indignant. She continued through Green/Peridot… Green/Light Green… Blue-Green… Blue… Indigo/Dark Blue… Violet/Burgundy… and in some rings, Pink, which showed one to be very happy, affectionate, infatuated, and loving.

"The colors of _your_ rings actually _do_ have a significance," Dr. Necessiter said. "As you can see, your rings are both pink now."

"Told you," Dr. Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Young love. The two of you are destined for one another. I hope you will invite us to your wedding. Feel free to have the wedding night without us. We _owwwwwwwwwwwww_-" Miss Uumellmahaye had ahold of his ear and was twisting it tighter than a pretzel.

"Pink is your current state of psionic energy," Dr. Necessiter continued with distraction. "The color will change in a series of colors similar to the ones that Miss Uumellmahaye noted, but it will have nothing to do with mood. Psionic emissions will change crystal orientation. To be safe, you should both be in this room again, when the color turns Green. I fear that nothing more can be done if the color turns Black."

"How much time do we have doctor," Kaname asked, hand at her mouth.

"I can't say for sure. Maybe twenty-four hours. Fourty-eight hours, tops. I would think less, if the color changes start to accelerate."

"But… how will you arrive at a solution…." Sousuke was shaken, a rarity for him. He only knew one thing in life. But, if things turned out for the worse, he could still use his skills to protect Kaname, if the Lambda Driver reacted to mind and not body… and if Kaname remained Whispered in his body.

"We-" Dr Dr. Hfuhruhurr walked over holding a cloth filled with ice to one ear. He stopped speaking when he saw the eyes in Sousuke's eyes roll back, and his hands grasp his head.

"Inversion of Heisenberg uncertainty principle… zero point fluctuation allowing energy transportation at superluminal speeds… wireless power transfer via strongly coupled magnetic resonances…" Kaname spoke through Sousuke's body, mirroring the time that he had first watched her suffering the mind-bending throws of the Whispers, the day that he had first piloted Arbalest. "I… what… I feel like such a freak…"

"It will be alright, Kaname." Sousuke held her hand… well his own hand… in a similar yet transposed act of sympathy and reassurance. He looked on with sudden annoyance as the two scientists ran about trying to put certain laboratory contraptions back in action. Anne too had gone from a concerned individual to someone who was feverishly working to align the radio telescopes. He felt a surge of anger and shouted:

"**EXCUSE ME. THE EXPERIMENT IS OVER. IT IS TIME TO PUT THINGS BACK IN ORDER."**

The three avid researchers sheepishly ceased their automatic actions and returned to his and the afflicted girl's sides. They all apologized.

"You're absolutely correct," Dr. Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "And I think I know where we are going to get the necessary science to set things to right-"

"At least I hope we do," Dr. Necessiter said. "Her Whispers. Those words she just spoke. They may provide the clues and guidance that we need." He ran to a phone and called a couple of other Mithril scientist who were currently in the building, sharing their findings and theorems with medical and administrative personnel. Their insights and knowledge base could prove invaluable down here in the Dungeon.

"I'll call the best mechanical and neuropsychologic engineers in Tokyo… and anywhere close by…" Anne sprung into action, brushing past Dr. Necessiter who had picked up a large pad and a number of ballpoint pens. That man got busy writing as Anne started her phones calls and Kaname began spouting advanced scientific verbiage.

"Coherent absorbers… electromagnetic wave propagation… free space radiation…." Kaname began trembling this time. It's as if Sousuke's body was being struck by a disease for the first time, whereas her own body had long since adapted. "Conjugate matching condition… dependence of energy balance on signal phase… membrane-based antennas…." She fought hard to gain control of her consciousness. "Sousuke… emergency… I need your help… this is of utmost importance…"

"**Kaname! What!"** Sousuke looked around the room, his first thought being that they might be under physical attack. They were not. "Please… tell me… what must I do to help you find the solution."

"This is not about the solution, Sousuke. But, it's nearly as important. I need you to…." Kaname lost her brain-wrestling match with the Whispers. "Teleportation of energy by exploiting quantum dot and wire resonance via fluctuation of the entangled vacuum state of the quantum field."

"This is sounding like a scene from 'Ant-Man and the Wasp'," an arriving scientist said. He was promptly shushed. This was not movie trivia time.

"Sousuke… school… I can't miss it." Kaname fought the good fight again. She felt her barrier bending, soon to break. "Since you're me…_ you_ can't miss it…" She began coughing, and her eyes did their trick again. "Computer crunching of thousands of qubits via appropriate scalability, initialization, and coherence."

Dr Hfuhruhurr instructed another newcomer, a higher-level administrator who knew everybody who was anybody, to call a number of select Mithril scientists or sympathizers at various sites worldwide. "Find out if anyone has found a way to halt Whispers… pause Whispers… or prolong Whispers. We may need any or all of those options today." He thought a moment before continuing. "And… is there any way to start Whispers back up again when they stop…."

"Kaname," Sousuke asked, when her eyes cleared and her breathing returned to normal. "I don't understand. How can school be important, with all that has happened and everything that's at stake. Besides, we were given today off."

"Today was the last day I have, literally." Kaname sneezed, feeling a much greater propulsive force than she would in her own body. "I know that people don't usually fail a grade in Japan. I know that students are not supposed to be held back a year. But, I will be the exception… because of all of the time I missed when I was held in China and Viet Nam… if I miss another day before the end of this year. Please… you have to… temporal stability of estimated transfer operation… data processing by remote reference method… extreme anisotrophy requirement…."

The Whispers increased in length, frequency, and level of advanced scientific concepts. Dr. Necessity sent out a stat order for more pens. Anne had reached out to every engineer that she could, along with a large number of research facilities with equipment to spare, and scientific supply houses that would take credit over the telephone. She sat near Kaname, dabbing the Sousuke body's forehead with a cool cloth. Sousuke called Mithril with the latest update. He was in turn informed that a helicopter was on its way. He would need to stop by DaDanaan before returning to his apartment.

"Fluctuation dissipation theory… coherence properties of Casimir forces… heat transfer by evanescent electromagnetic waves…." Kaname showed no sign of stopping. "Sousuke… come hear… listen…" Kaname gathered the strength to turn, reach over, and whisper into Sousuke's ear. "At school… in my body… with everybody watching…." She suddenly spoke very loudly, causing Sousuke to start:

"_**NOTHING WEIRD… NOTHING DANGEROUS… **__**DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME**__**?!"**_

"Sir, yes sir!" Sousuke answered by reflex and stood at attention.

"What do you think the chance is that the boy survives everything that happened here today-" Dr. Necessiter started. He drew a quick sketch of a skull-and-crossbones, followed by a tombstone sporting R.I.P.

"Only to die when Miss Chidori catches up with him again," Dr finished. He took a cold clothe and began dabbing at Sousuke's… Kaname's body's… forehead.

"I wonder if they will let us read eulogies at his funeral," Anne said. She had grown fond of Sousuke.

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**HOSPITAL ROOFTOP**

As Sousuke stood safely in the roof top doorway, a helicopter broke ECS camouflage.

Hair blowing in the wind kicked up by the spinning copter blades, Sousuke crouched slightly and ran, stumbling slightly as his Sousuke brain tried to usurp control of the Kaname body. He had yet figured out how to think thoughts, while letting the body run on muscle memory. If that even made scientific sense.

"Sergeant Sagara?" A Mithril tactical airman opened a large sliding door. He stared at Kaname's body, and cocked his head. He had not been clued in to the situation; he had merely been told that a Sergeant Sagara would need to be picked up on the Tokyo Neurological Center's roof. "Where is the Sergeant, miss?" He'd seen Sousuke's picture before. They had never served together.

"As strange as it may seem, that would be _me,"_ Sousuke replied. "That is my brain's rank, not this body's." That remark sounded overly mysteriously, and somewhat stupid. Unfortunately, being in Kaname's body did not curb his occasional react-before-you-think reactions. "Do not ask…." He climbed aboard the gray-colored Sikorsky SH-60Mi Goshawk.

"Yes." The airmen knew better than to push for information. This was a covert pick-up. His job was to mind the bird, not make friends or dig up things to talk about at the base cantina. "You sit forward… Sergeant. I'll be manning the minigun." He sat down on a swivel seat slaved to a GAU-17/A 7.62×51mm NATO six-barrel rotary machine gun, part of the surface warfare set-up. He motioned to another man, an airman would be responsible for anti-submarine warfare, including Mark 54 MAKO lightweight torpedoes. The pilots would be responsible for the FLIR, AGM 114 Hellfire missiles, and fuselage mounted machine guns.

"Got it," Sousuke said, still disturbed to hear Kaname's voice every time that he spoke. He couldn't fight the urge to look for her every time he heard that voice. "He walked to the front of the cabin, meeting the Co-pilot who came to check on the status of the pickup.

"Cuitie's here," the middle-aged man with a potbelly and handlebar mustache said. It was Gebo-3, Christopher Hugh Trevor Layton. "I can't believe what I'm seeing, but Hummer was right." Hummer… Urzu- 4… was the field commander of the Mithril helicopter corps.

A head leaned past the frame of the cockpit doorframe. That bald and tattooed head belonged to Ruslan Polovinkovich, Gebo-1. "Vybliadok… I cannot control myself… chollooy me huey." The rude slang was not lost on Sousuke.

"Of course," Sousuke said with a sigh. "It _would_ be you two." Both men were known to him. Ruslan was cut from Mao's cloth, and Chris from Kurz's. They rode him heavily when he was in his own body. This flight would be a trial.

"Don't worry Sous ole boy-"Ruslan chuckled. "I mean, ole girl." Chris walked over, slapped his hand, and took his place at the right hand seat in the cockpit. "We'll treat you like a lady…."

"Life a sweet high school girl," Chris said, "So don't you worry. He frowned. "We promised the Captain. And the Lieutenant Commander."

"But you _know_ how we treat high school girls," Ruslan quipped. That had both men laughing cheerfully. The pilot began running his pre-lift checklist. When things were ready, and Chris had reapplied the ECS, he put the copter in the air and began the trip to DaDanaan.

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**HELICOPTER**

"There will be no problem," Sousuke remarked after Chris radioed the TDD-1. "I am quite familiar with the comedy routine." Either one of them was a handful alone. Put the two of them together, and things became unpredictable. Depending on their mood, the pair might be quiet and polite, or loud and obnoxious. As it turned out, they would settle for annoying and mischievous.

"There we go!" Ruslan nodded his head, struck by inspiration. "**Jokes! **It's a long flight."

"Righto!" Chris blew his nose out one nostril, cleaned up the window a bit, and rubbed his hands together. "Ace idea, chaps."

"Shit." Sousuke knew what was coming. He had put his foot in it. He pulled the heavy coat he had been given tightly against him. The salt laden air was cold. He cursed under his breath. It took him a few tries to set the coat comfortably over his bosom.

"Hey Sid," Ruslan called back to one of the airmen. "You like jokes?" When the man answered 'yes,' he added "Don't be a peeeederus… jump in any time you want." That sly joke was lost on the English-speaking gunner.

"You got it!" The airman kept his mind on business, but would keep an ear out as well.

Sousuke thought about earplugs. He'd tried that once before. The devilish duo had resorted to speaking through an amplified set-up, loud enough to drown out the drone of the engines and the noise of the copter blades.

"This one was voted the funniest in the world… Sergeant Chidori." Chris laughed. "And the joke's pretty good too."

"Hah Hah!" Ruslan took out a long cigar… lit it… and started puffing away. He smiled seeing Chris bust out his dirty old Pez Dispenser. It was Elsa from 'Frozen'.

"A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground," Chris began. "He doesn't seem to be breathing, and his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls the emergency services-"

"So," Ruslan was comical, trying to sound like a guy from Jersey. "He gasps to the operator: 'My friend is dead! What can I do?'"

"I know this one," Sid shouted out to be heard. "The operator, in a calm soothing voice says: 'Just take it easy. I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead'."

"That's right!" Chris said. "Then there is a silence… followed by the sound of a gunshot."

"The guy's voice comes back on the line," Ruslan added. "He says: 'OK, now what?'" He peered around the door, looking at Sousuke. "Get it. He made sure he was dead, alright."

"Wonderful," Sousuke said. He was tired. He closed his eyes. He doubted that sleep would come.

"Potselui meni v sraku," Ruslan said. He punctuated his disappointment with a fart. He began making the helicopter pitch and yaw, in rather abrupt and random fashion. "It is _my_ turn, I think. "I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather-" He paused for effect. "Not screaming in terror like his passengers."

"I never heard that one before," Sousuke griped. He heard that _every_ time they flew together, joke night or not.

"Everyone a winner, right sweet cheeks." Chris blew Sousuke a kiss. "You got one Sid me boy?"

"You bet," Sid replied. "It's a bit long, but it's worth it." He could do accents, too. He had had a British girlfriend for a spell. "Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip. After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep. Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend. 'Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see'."

"I don't know this one," Chris said, listening intently. "The accent's balls up though, chap."

"'I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes' replies Watson'," Sid resumed. "'And what do you deduce from that?' Watson ponders for minute. 'Well… Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically'…."

"What do whores have to do with it," Ruslan blurted out. "Remember… we have a lady present."

"Relating to a horologe or _horology," Sousuke said. _ "The science of measuring time."

"Not only one hell of a dreamboat," Chris piped up. "But smart, too! You'll make one hell of a wife one day."

Sousuke swallowed hard. That was a joke. But, to him, it was no laughing matter. If Kaname and the gaggle of scientists couldn't find a way to reverse things, he would remain in this body. Talk about a gender mix-up and a ticket to life-long psychiatry sessions.

"'Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three'," Sid continued. "'Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. But… what does it tell _you_, Holmes?'" Holmes is silent for a moment and says-"

"I can guess!' Chris slapped his leg. "'Watson, you idiot!' he says. 'Someone has stolen our tent!' Jolly good! For a Yank…."

"Yes, for an American," Ruslan said, an evil glint in his eyes. No one could see, however. He had his helmet visor down. "Did you know that when NASA first started sending up astronauts, they quickly discovered that ballpoint pens would not work in zero gravity. To combat the problem, NASA scientists spent a decade… and twelve billion dollars… to develop a pen that writes in zero gravity, upside down, underwater, on almost any surface including glass and at temperatures ranging from below freezing to three hundred degrees Celsius." He held off the punch line. "The Russians used a pencil." In that place and time, Ukraine was still part of the Soviet Union.

"That's only part in jest," Sid said, without taking offense. "Originally, NASA astronauts, like the Soviet cosmonauts, used pencils, according to NASA historians. In fact, NASA ordered thirty-four mechanical pencils from Houston's Tycam Engineering Manufacturing, Inc., in 1965. They paid $4,382.50 or $128.89 per pencil. When these prices became public, there was an outcry and NASA scrambled to find something cheaper for the astronauts to use."

"I know this story," Sousuke said, sitting a bit straighter, while deciding what to do with the hair that flopped over his face. Pushing it aside and spitting some out, he said "Pencils were not the best choice anyway." He ignored Ruslan who called him a Chatty Cathy. "The tips of pencils flaked and broke off, drifting in microgravity where they could potentially harm an astronaut or equipment. And pencils are flammable… a quality NASA very much wanted to avoid in onboard objects after the Apollo 1 fire."

"Right!" Sid picked up with the tale. "The Fisher Pen Company reportedly invested one _million_ dollars to create what is now commonly known as the space pen. None of this investment money came from NASA's coffers… that agency only became involved after the pen was created. In 1965 Fisher patented a pen that could write upside-down, in frigid or roasting conditions … down to minus 50 degrees Fahrenheit or up to 400 degrees F… and even underwater or in other liquids. If too hot, though, the ink turned green instead of its normal blue."

"That same year, Fisher offered the AG-7 "Anti-Gravity" Space Pen to NASA," Sousuke remarked. "Because of the earlier mechanical pencil fiasco, NASA was hesitant. But, after testing the space pen intensively, the agency decided to use it on spaceflights beginning in 1967. Unlike most ballpoint pens, Fisher's pen does not rely on gravity to get the ink flowing-"

"Then how the fuck does it work?" Maurice, the other tactical airman joined the group. They were not on a combat mission, and were not searching for enemy submarines.

"The cartridge was pressurized with nitrogen at thirty-five pounds per square inch. This pressure pushes the ink toward the tungsten carbide ball at the pen's tip," Sousuke replied. "The ink, too, differs from that of other pens. Fisher used ink that stays a gel-like solid until the movement of the ballpoint turns it into a fluid. The pressurized nitrogen also prevents air from mixing with the ink so it cannot evaporate or oxidize."

"According to an Associated Press report from February 1968, NASA ordered four hundred of Fisher's antigravity ballpoint pens for the Apollo program," Sid said. "A year later, the Soviet Union… yes, you heard me right… the Russians… ordered one hundred pens and one thousand ink cartridges to use on their Soyuz space missions."

"Thanks the fuck for ruining a good joke," Ruslan griped. "Moje sudno na povitrianij podušci napovnene vuhrami?

"The space pen's mark on the Apollo program was not limited to facilitating writing in microgravity," Sousuke added. Perhaps this interesting conversation would put an end to the jokes. As such, he should continue. "According to the Fisher Space Pen Company, the Apollo 11 astronauts also used the pen to fix a broken arming switch, enabling their return to Earth."

"We never need to fix Russian arming switches," Ruslan aid. "But it appears that we need to fix joke night! Right, pretty face?"

"Yes!" Chris beamed.

"I was speaking to Miss Sagara," Ruslan said.

"Are we there yet," Sousuke said to himself, like a small child on a long car trip.

"Can I play, too?" That was Maurice. When he got the green light, he said "Which day of the week do fish hate?" He barely paused. "Fry day!" When no one said anything, he quickly added: "Let's go military. What do you call a monkey in a minefield?" Again, little pause. "A baboom! Hah hah hah! I got a million of them. Two fish were in a tank. One says to the other… 'do you know how to drive this'. Get it? A military tank!"

"Go! Now! To the back of the aircraft!" Ruslan made a rude hand gesture and then pointed aft. Maurice growled and made his way back to his console. "Fear not, my blue flower. We can now return to the_ clever_ jokes." The tone in his voice promised anything but.

"Oh no," Chris hung his head. He knew that tone of voice all too well.

"Why do ducks have webbed feet?" Ruslan asked. He answered himself. "To stamp out forest fires. And why do elephants have flat feet?" When no one answered, he said "To stamp out burning ducks!" He rubbed his belly. "That makes me think of Ukrainian roast duck. In Ukraine, a lot of families cook and serve ducks during New Year and Christmas holidays with great pleasure. In my family, we like to modernize the classic recipe for a duck by adding apples and new ingredients. A hint of sweetness goes well with poultry meat, and the apple stuffing and soy-honey glaze we will use today perfectly accentuate the rich taste of a duck and help its skin to caramelize and crisp up. The meat remains moist and tender inside, glorious brown outside, and very flavorful all over." The copter sank a bit in the air, when his thoughts wandered.

The sudden drop had Sousuke feeling like his stomach was trying to trade places with his brain. He swallowed hard. There had been more than enough swapping for one day.

"Combine ginger powder and cinnamon in a bowl," Ruslan continued. "Then add salt, honey, and soy sauce. Squeeze the juice from a lemon. At the end stir in olive oil …it will help to dissolve spices. The combination of these ingredients enables the meat to fully marinate and become succulent and flavorful. Wash the duck under running water and remove any missed feathers. Then remove giblets from duck cavity and-"

"Ah_hemmmmm_…" Chris made a finger across the neck gesture. "What the duck, man!" He looked at Sousuke. "But… I bet the senorita prefers to get goosed." He smiled when Sousuke gave him the bird. "A woman gets on a bus with her baby. The bus driver says: 'That's the ugliest baby that I've ever seen. Ugh!' The woman goes to the rear of the bus and sits down, fuming. She says to a man next to her: 'The driver just insulted me!' The man says: 'You go right up there and tell him off…go ahead, I'll hold your monkey for you'."

"Here, let me save you the trouble," Sousuke said with a deadpan drawl. "Sergeant Chidori. I bet you really like to monkey around."

"Who put a bee under her bonnet?" Chris asked.

"Probably the same person who put a pineapple up her ass." Ruslan flipped his visor up and said. "I know how to get it out! And it's not that fucking space pencil," he added quickly to Sid. "We just have to get him to laugh it out!"

"I got one, then." Chris said. A doctor says to his patient, 'I have bad news and worse news'.'Oh dear, what's the bad news?' asks the patient. The doctor replies, 'You only have twenty-four hours to live.' 'That's terrible', said the patient. 'How can the news possibly be worse?' The doctor replies, 'I've been trying to contact you since yesterday'."

"That-" Sousuke felt as if his heart was first in his throat, and then plummeted somewhere down in Kaname's nether regions. How much time did he and that girl have? He faced death on the battlefield with more composure than he felt now. For some reason, the jokes were really beginning to get his dander up now.

"My turn!" Sid had one. He was a golf fanatic. It was one reason he joined Mithril. Join the service. Visit different countries. Play different courses. "A man and a friend are playing golf one day at their local golf course. One of the guys is about to chip onto the green when he sees a long funeral procession on the road next to the course. He stops in mid-swing, takes off his golf cap, closes his eyes, and bows down in prayer."

Chris chimed in. "His friend says: 'Wow, that is the most thoughtful and touching thing I have ever seen. You truly are a kind man'."

Ruslan took the joke home. "The man then replies: 'Yeah, well we were married thirty-five years'."

After that, for the remainder of the flight's duration, the jokes kept coming. The jokes, and the quips about Sousuke being a girl. It may have been the jokes. It may have been the stress of the day. Or, the mishap in the lab may have done something to reset Sousuke's emotional thermostat. But, like with Pompeii, no one saw the explosion coming.

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**TUATHA DA DANAAN**

After the copter was safely on the ground, the fuselage seemed to rock back and forth a bit before settling down. Kurz, standing just outside, said "If the copter's rockin,' don't bother knockin'!" He winced when Mao stepped hard on his foot and called him a dickhead.

Tessa fidgeted while she waited for the door to slide open. She felt a strange feeling when Sousuke jumped out, duffle nag slung over his… her… shoulder. That scene in general she had seen before. But, not with the blue hair and the breasts. Not with Kaname Chidori's face and body.

"Captain," Sousuke said. "Before we head inside. We have a medical emergency." He saw Maurice scamper off quickly from the corner of his eye. He glanced up briefly when DaDanaan's large hanger bay doors began to swing shut.

"What happened, Sousuke." Mao was all seriousness, now. "Did someone attack the chopper? Tessa, maybe we should get Kalinin on the com fast."

"Negative," Sousuke said. "I had an accident… three times, as it happens…" He nodded towards the cockpit area. "Gebo 1, Gebo 3, and airman Repp fell over and hit my elbows."

"Multiple times, Angel?" Kurz was safely out of range of the elbows.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said.

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A lot of material was taken directly from Wikipedia.


	3. Chapter 3

**TUATHA DA DANAAN**

After a quick explanation of his circumstances, Sousuke walked with the others into the bowels of the boat.

A more in-depth discussion would take place when they all reached the meeting room, which was in the process of being set-up as a de facto medical suite for his examination. The sick bay had not been decontaminated after a run of influenza had forced the submarine to hold her position at sea while a large number of seamen where airlifted to hospitals on the mainland.

Before heading to the room, Sousuke stopped by Arbalest, to see if he could interface with the A.I. and run the Lambda Driver while in Kaname's body. He had a curt and cursory discussion with the A.I., who asked too many questions about how it felt to be a man in a woman's body. Naturally, he was getting that question from everybody.

"You will not be called away from the school for routine missions, Sergeant Sagara," Lieutenant Commander Kalinin informed Sousuke, after his subordinate had donned a pilot's helmet and strapped himself inside Arbalest. "But, if a situation of the severest nature arises, we will send for you… or if the location requires, send the ARX-7 to Jindai. Before you pilot into combat, I suggest you ask Miss Chidori for permission to put her body in harm's way. No… let us make that an order…."

"Should I call you 'Mam' instead of 'Sir', Sergeant Sagara?" Al liked to be prepared.

"_Be quiet!"_ Sousuke's easy irritability with the machine hadn't changed one bit. "We do not have time for questions. There are tests to run, not mouths to run." Al very rarely called him Sir in any case. 'Sir' was usually for officers.

"But Sergeant, I do not have a mouth." Al also liked to be precise and literal.

"_**I know that!"**_ Sousuke barked. "Keep silent until I order you otherwise." He sighed. Kurz and Mao had decided to join him. Tessa, too. The conference/medical room must be near to being ready.

"Can I ask one final question, Sergeant Sagara?" Al sounded normal. He was incapable of pleading.

"Go ahead!" Sousuke continued checking readouts. It looked as if it was his mind that was required to operate Arbalest, not his body. He felt better about that. He didn't want strategic targets or needy people to suffer because of his misfortunes.

"You have successfully transferred your mind to another human body… and Miss Chidori has successfully transferred her mind to yours…." The machine paused, as if it were human, and as if it was afraid to ask the next question. "Do you think it possible to transfer my intelligence to a human body?" He had once hoped to be transferred into a Trans Am. He then decided it would be better to be like Data in 'Star Trek The Next Generation', and help design an android body to host his 'mind.'

"Gepetto, your boy is growing up," Kurz said to Sousuke. Tessa caught the reference, as did Mao. Sousuke did not.

"Gepetto?" Souske asked. He was unaware of that reference, having never read Carlo Collodi's children's novel or watched later derivatives. "Was he some famous transgender soldier? A victim of a scientific experiment gone awry?"

"You are not transgender," Al noted. "Transgender people have a gender identity or gender expression that differs from their assigned sex. Some transgender people identify as transsexual if they desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another. Transgender… often shortened as trans… is also an umbrella term: in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex … trans men and trans women… it may include people who are not exclusively masculine or feminine… people who are genderqueer or non-binary, including bigender, pangender, genderfluid, or agender."

"Hey!" Kurz had meant things as a way to show his cleverness, not an invitation to a mechanical lecture. "Don't-"

"That-" Sousuke fought to keep his temper down. Not only did he have issue with his physical coordination, his mind seemed to be operating under vague handicaps, too. Both issues needed work before he headed back to Tokyo.

"Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender," Al continued. "Infrequently, the term transgender is defined very broadly to include cross-dressers, regardless of their gender identity."

"Shh!" Tessa acted as if she could actually quiet the verbose A.I. _"Shhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_

"Maybe _this_ will fucking work." Mao picked up a large wrench used to adjust hydraulic couplings. She tried to figure out what and where she could strike without earning a huge pay cut or a night in the brig. Maybe she could just pour some beer in the thought center. It worked with people, in a figurative sense.

"And… when I mentioned assigned sex… that word did imply the sex we discussed before, when you showed me those body images on-line." Al had no idea that Kaname's body was turning red. While Sousuke did not act like Weber towards the opposite sex, that did not mean that Sousuke had no interest. His difficult early life left him missing in social cues, not normal male hormones.

If Tessa were a tea kettle, steam would be about to jet forth from her ears.

"Sexual intercourse… also known as coitus or copulation… is principally the insertion and thrusting of the penis, usually when erect, into the vagina for sexual pleasure, reproduction, or both. This is also known as vaginal intercourse or vaginal sex. Other forms of penetrative sexual intercourse include anal sex … penetration of the anus by the penis… oral sex …penetration of the mouth by the penis or oral penetration of the female genitalia… fingering… sexual penetration by the fingers… and penetration by use of a dildo… especially a strap-on dildo. These activities involve physical intimacy between two or more individuals and are usually used among humans solely for physical or emotional pleasure and can contribute to human bonding. For example… xample… ample… ple…le… e."

Lieutenant Commander Kalinin was the one person on board who had the executive authority to shut down Al… in effect, using the equivalent of a scram. A scram is an emergency shutdown of a nuclear reactor, a type of kill switch which achieves its results by inserting large amounts of negative reactivity mass into the midst of the fissile material. In this circumstance, the Russian had used a key to open an emergency cover and pushed a large red button that injected numerous questions into the A.I.'s thought center, distracting it for whatever time was necessary, until a code number was typed into a control panel to reverse the process.

"Be careful what you say," Kalinin informed the Captain. "He will be unable to formulate speech… but he will still be recording everything we say." Had he pushed the red button and entered a specific code, the total shutdown that resulted would take days to be circumvented. The shut-down system had originally been intended for situations when the A.I. might run amok and take actions of its own accord.

"Th-th-thank you, Commander." Tessa said. "G-G-Geppetto, a craftsman in a Tuscan village created a wooden puppet name Pinnochio, who would later dream of becoming a real boy." She was still a bit wobbly on her feet; but, she was not a total milquetoast. She straightened her uniform… took a deep breath… and added: "He is notably characterized for his frequent tendency to lie, which causes his nose to grow."

"He's like me," Kurz said with a thrust of his pelvis. "Except when I lie to a pretty lady, the thing that grows is my _oooo-ooo-oo-o-"_ He let out a long groan when Mao kancho'd him.

"In the movie," Tessa said. "Pinnochio saved Gepetto from a giant whale and dies. But, a Blue Fairy decided that Pinocchio has proven himself brave, truthful, and unselfish. To reward him, the Blue Fairy resurrects Pinocchio, turning him into a real boy." She turned to look at the ARX-7. "So... it doesn't hurt to hope to be Pinnochio some day."

"Fuck that," Mao said, happy to be a party pooper. "That's just fucking Disney's way of pussifying every fucking thing. In the original story, the puppet was an asshole. Even the fucking wood carver called him a wretched shit. The first thing he did after being born was steal his father's wig. Things went to fucking hell after that. There was no ass-kissing ending. It was meant to be a tragedy. It ended with the puppet's execution. Pinocchio's enemies, the Fox and the Cat, bound his fucking arms, passed a noose around his throat, and hung him from the branch of a fucking oak tree."

"Thanks for that, Sergeant major Sunshine," Kurz said, walking funny. "I can't believe you read a child's book. I didn't even know you could read." He aptly dodged a round house kick.

"I didn't," Mao replied. "I saw the porno movie version." Everyone was silent for a few moment's after that.

"Still, mind transfer _could_ be a real hot thing some day." Kurz looked at Tessa. "Right, Tessa babe?" He unexpectantly began to sing, in a pleasant voice that shocked everyone:

"_I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth  
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth  
She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine  
Selling little bottles of love potion number nine_

_I told her that I was a flop with chicks  
I've been this way since 1956  
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign  
She said "What you need is love potion number nine. Oh yeh!"_

"I… I don't understand…" Tessa didn't know if she wanted to. She knew Kurz all too well.

"_Wellll-lll-ll-l_-" Kurz chuckled. "Imagine this. After we get Sousuke back into his body, we put Angel's mind in yours, and yours in hers." He pointed at Sousuke. "He's hot for that body. You're hot for him." He kissed his fingers. "Oo la la."

"That-"Tessa turned pink. She almost tripped over her own feet. "Mister Weber!"

"And," Kurz continued. "We could transfer Mao's mind into a keg of beer… that's where it is most of the time, anyway." He rubbed his hands together. "While her mind's swimming, I'll take good care of her body. _Schwinnnggggg!"_ He barely managed to dodge a fierce jab form Mao.

"We could transfer Sergeant Weber's brain to a donkey!" Tessa said, animated.

"That would be redundant." That was Al talking again. Kalinin had typed in the reset code, hoping a reboot would settle things down. "In the past, Sergeant Major Mao has informed me that Sergeant Weber is a horse's ass."

"Bingo!" Mao slapped hands with Tessa.

"They are ready for you, Sergeant," Kalinin called over to Sousuke after picking up a ringing deck phone and speaking to an unknown person. They all headed over to the conference room, where Peggy Goldberry awaited Sousuke.

The ship's doctor gave him a thorough physical exam. Kaname's body was in fine shape. She had him get dressed again, and meet her in the boat's hallway, where everyone else from the earlier small group was waiting.

"Alright, Sergeant." Peggy waved her hand towards the boat's stern. "Walk for me that way, normal at first, and come back to me walking one foot in front of the other." She watched intently as Sousuke followed her directions.

"I… this…." Sousuke sounded frustrated. The results were nothing new, merely more exaggerated. He had been having issues walking and using motor functions ever since he awoke in Kaname's body. "It's a problem."

"Indeed," Peggy said, rubbing her chin. "I figure that recovering from the transfer process might be a lot like the recovery patients face after suffering traumatic head injury or surgery to remove a brain tumor." She frowned. "Initial problems are caused by brain swelling. That included weakness… dizzy spells… poor balance or the lack of coordination… confusion,,, speech problems… and seizures-"

"Sounds like Mao after every trip to the bar," Kurz said, waiting for a laugh or too.

"Your point is," Mao said calmly. That was a real buzzkill.

"But, some of the symptoms remain, even after the swelling goes down," the doctor said. "The initial reports make me think that your problems are caused by different kinds of issues… molecular issues… with or without brain swelling If you are intending to go back to school as Miss Chidori, people at the facility will inspect you too closely if your motor skills are too discombobulated." She knew something about Sousuke's mental particulars, too. "You are not good at lying."

"What can you do, doctor." Tessa wrung her hands. "Mithril's funds are not limitless. Even if they were, the administrators at Jindai Municipal High School have drawn their line in the sand. Sousuke… I mean, Kaname… has to make it to school." She didn't need to add that the events at the neurological facility were beyond Top Secret. No one at Jindai could learn of the mind-body switch.

"We do not have time to fly Sergeant Sagara to Merida Island to undergo physical therapy, even if such therapy could be done in one night." She pursed her lips. "But… if Sousuke puts his mind to it… and we do what I think we can… he can probably move well enough to get by with minor excuses. And, he can be coached in the latter."

"How?" Sousuke felt his spirits rise.

"Dance," was all that Peggy said. She smiled. She bet that no one there would have guessed that answer in a million years.

"Dance?" Kalinin asked. He thought a moment, rubbed his beard, and then nodded his head.

"Yes," Peggy said. "Dancing is one of the best advanced physical therapies ever, as it involves muscle strength, as well as coordination and balance. And, in Sergeant Sagara's situation, it might help alleviate some of his problems. Indeed, we don't know if there is actual damage to Miss Chidori's brain or body, or if his mind simply is not used to Miss Chidori's body. Dance could help the former over a long time of practice and working out. And, the vigorous movements might help his mind synchronize with her body in a much shorter period of time."

"I elect Tessa," Kurz said helpfully. "Oh yeh! I remember her telling me she wished that Sousuke would have danced with her onboard the Pacific Chryslis on that overnight Christmas Eve cruise. On her birthday. It's never too late for a birthday present!"

"I-" Tessa pinked up again, thinking about dancing with the normal Sousuke. But, he had told her that night, that he liked Kaname. "That-" She shook her head violently. "I do not want to dance with a girl."

"Mao?" Kurz asked.

"I only dance on my back," Mao replied. "Or on top." She slammed Kurz in the belly after he said 'it takes two to tango' and pointed to himself.

"I can't dance," Peggy said. "Two left feet."

"I would not mind dancing, even in my wounded condition" Kurz struck a pose a lot like one from TAG magazine. "But… with my injuries, I could not move very quickly." He licked his lips. "It would have to be a slow dance."

"**Vetoed!"** That came from Tessa, Peggy, Mao, and Sousuke at the same time.

"How about _you,_ Mister Kalinin?" Tessa sked. "It would be alright. Miss Chidori wouldn't mind if it were you. And Sousuke is like a son to you. You could think of it as if you were teaching your son or daughter to dance before their wedding." She abruptly put her hand to her mouth, feeling tears about to fall. She realized just what she had said, to a man who had lost his wife and unborn daughter to a botched delivery. "I'm… I'm…"

"It's fine, Captain," Kalinin said. "But I will still need to decline. I once promised myself that I would never dance with a woman again, after she died." They all knew that he meant his late wife.

"Isn't Ensign Madhur Roshan a champion dancer?" Sousuke had overheard the man speaking about that topic with a fellow sailor.

"Yes!" Tessa clapped her hands. "He is. He was once thought to be the best dancer in Bollywood, before he changed careers to become a mercenary."

"I'm sorry to say that Ensign Roshan is not onboard," Peggy said sadly. "He was one of the crew members that contracted Asian Avian Influenza A. He was sent to Ramkhamhaeng Hospital, Bangkok, Thailand."

"Then who-" Tessa looked flummoxed.

"I believe that I could be of service." That voice! It was the last one that Sousuke had wanted to hear. It was one he would never have guessed would want to help him in any way. "I was a champion ballroom dancer." It was Commander Mardukas.

"But-" Sousuke couldn't get the words past his tongue.

"I trained for months at the Witley Wonder Underwater Ballroom in Godalming, England, when HMS Turbulent was up for repairs." Mardukas struck a pose.

"But-" Sousuke tried again and failed just as miserably.

"You might find it hard to believe," Mardukas said. "But, you shouldn't. I also spent time as a dance instructor at The Blackpool Tower Ballroom."

"B-B-B-But-" Even the extra effort didn't help Sousuke.

"Do you doubt my credentials, Sergeant?" Mardukas pierced Sousuke with his gaze, his visage softening when he realized that he was glaring at Kaname Chidori's body. He would have to convince himself that it was possible to glower at only Sergeant Sagara's mind. "Will you refuse my instruction? I can make it an order, if necessary. With the Captain's permission, of course." The way he said it made it seem that he did not expect the young woman to override his demands.

"No, Sir!" Sousuke stood at attention. It felt odd, smacking his heels together in heels. "And no, sir! I will gladly accept your tuition." That was a lie. But, it was a necessary falsehood. He wouldn't be shocked if he broke out in hives, dealing with that man.

"To the hangar bay, then." Mardukas turned on his heels and marched off. That was clearly an order to Sousuke. The others followed because they were not told to do otherwise. Who could miss out on watching _this_? Kurz took a short detour to grab a video camera.

When Sousuke and Mardukas reached their destination, the older man took time to give Sousuke a comprehensive overview on ballroom dancing, while the younger man started sweating everywhere a girl's body could sweat. He came close to passing out on a number of occasions

"The waltz is a popular dance for lots of formal occasions like weddings, quinceañeras and coming-out parties," Mardukas said. "It is elegant and looks wonderful to those who are watching from the sidelines. The good news is that it is one of the easiest dance steps to learn and to execute."

"Sir, yes sir!" Sousuke fought the urge to salute. To him, the calm words of his superior sounded more frightening than anything Gunnery Sergeant Hartman said in 'Full Metal Jacket'.

"The waltz is a dance which has morphed over time from an old German folk dance, and it is danced to a 1-2-3 beat," the commander intoned. "Most waltzes are slow, and by mastering the basic dance step, you can survive the waltz pretty easily."

"I will do my best, commander!"

"If you have ever seen a ballroom dance exhibition or competition, you know that the waltz is often quite elegant and fluid," the submarine commander continued.. "The dancers can seem like they are floating around the floor. While your initial waltz may not be quite that impressive, you can quickly learn the basics and then with some practice, the image can be quite impressive."

"I will die before I fail you, sir!"

"Don't get my hopes up," Mardukas said without thinking. He had to keep in mind that he was dealing with one person's mind, and another person's body. That had him thinking protective thoughts about a certain teenage girl, and all teenage girls in the world, for that matter. "We will begin dancing, now." With each instruction point he said out loud, he added an additional point that only Sousuke could make out. "I think I will do this backwards," he said, an idea coming to mind. The boys mind and body situation _was_ inside out. So, he would do things inside out as well. He would teach the boy to dance the lead, even though he was in a girl's body, and had a grown man as his partner.

"Backwards, sir?" Sousuke received no verbal response. Instead, Mardukas put them in the proper start position.

"Take your partner in your arms in a classic dance stance with your right hand on her waist and your left hand in her right hand," Mardukas said. "Her left hand should be on your right shoulder. This will feel pretty natural in time. As you dance the waltz, she will follow you doing the mirror image of what you are doing."

Sousuke did as instructed. He blinked rapidly when the Commander spoke in his ear:

"_Treat young ladies as human because that is what they are. They breathe and they have feelings. Your words and actions can cause lasting damage. Think before you speak and act. With any girl, but most importantly, with the body you are borrowing."_

Sousuke promised that he would. He was not so dense that he didn't realize that the moral imperative was meant both as a short term solution, and as a lifelong behaviour should he regain his body.

"Listen to the music for a couple of moments and get the 1-2-3 beat in your mind," Mardukas instructed. "Then, on a first beat, step forward one step with your left foot. Your partner will be stepping back one step with her right foot. Got it so far?"

"Affirmative, sir!" Sousuke swallowed hard when Mardukas hissed:

"_No slut-shaming. Girls have the right to wear whatever they like without fear of being sexually assaulted. What they are wearing or the fact that they enjoy sex is not an invitation for you to make unwanted sexual advances or speak about or to a girl in slut-shaming terms. And, to preserve Miss Chidori's reputation, you should better not _act_ like a slut!"_

Sousuke agreed again.

"On the next beat, step forward and to the right with your right foot," Mardukas guided the movement to make things easier for his subordinate. "Your right foot should make a bit of an upside-down 'L' shape to get there. Again, your partner should move her left foot back and to the left so, at the end of the step, you are still facing each other."

"Like this?" Sousuke did his best to follow orders. He began sweating more heavily when Mardukas said:

"_When a girl says 'NO' to anything she means 'NO!' She does not mean 'maybe' or 'I'm not sure'. Girls can say 'NO' at any time during anything. This means you STOP immediately. And, as Miss Chidori, your answer had better be 'NO', unless you talk to her mind and she specifically tells you to say 'yes!'"_

Sousuke blurted out "Of course, sir!"

"Shift your weight to your right foot without moving your left. It's just a gentle leaning movement," the ship's number two droned on, at one with his teaching. "Now, on the third beat, slide your left foot over to your right and you will be standing with your feet together. Again, your partner should be mirroring your steps. Now you will look like you did right at the beginning."

"It is becoming simpler," Sousuke remarked. His momentary satisfaction died like a flower on a vine when the other man said in a razor-sharp tone:

"_Girls are equal to you in brain power. In fact, many will exceed you. This may be news to you but they can also be physically stronger than you. They can also be better at sports. So, don't be an arrogant prick. Also, do not ruin Miss Chidori's future sporting endeavours."_

"Now, on the fourth beat of six, step back one step with your right foot. You partner should be stepping forward with her left," Mardukas said, followed by:

"_Many girls love to have fun and party. This does not mean you can come onto them when they are drunk or high. In fact, this is a good time to look out for them as you would any human in a similar situation. And, you will rue the day I hear that you got Miss Chidori's body drunk or high, around boys or otherwise."_

"I would never do that, sir!" Sousuke tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. He felt a lot as if he were being lectured by a prom date's father. Not that he had any personal experience there. He had seen teen movies at the base theatre before.

"On the fifth beat of the music, step back and to the left with your left foot, then shift your weight to your left foot," the commander commanded. He then breathed through clenched teeth:

"_Girls are not here on this earth for your pleasure. They are not sexual objects. It may be news to you, but they do not like cat-calling, gossiping with others about their bodies or appearance, or being stared at while going about their daily routines. That means you too, when you see her body in the mirror. I hope we understand one another, Sergeant."_

"Sir, yes sir!" Sousuke hoped that the 'gremlin' in his mind wouldn't use all this instruction against him. Like many folks, there were subconscious parts of his mind that sometimes thought things that he consciously did not want to think, or unconsciously caused him to do things he normally wouldn't do.

"On the sixth and final beat of this dance step, slide your right foot forward until your two feet are together. Again, you and your partner should be back together, feet together, facing one another just like right before you started," Mardukas enunciated. He then growled:

"_Pornography is not real. It is not what a loving respectful relationship looks like. What you may have seen are two or more actors. Even though the woman appears to enjoy sex that objectifies and degrades her, in real-life this most likely is not the case. A loving relationship is where two people enjoy time together and both enjoy sex that is mutually respectful__. But… for now… you shouldn't even be thinking about sex by yourself, or with anyone or anything else! Store this away for the future!"_

"It is not my intention, sir!" Sousuke replied. He had been propositioned by prostitutes many times, and had never felt the need to go with them, or had shot down any urges that raised their dirty heads.

"Now, you start again just like the second step with stepping one step forward with your left foot, only turn both you and your partner about 1/4 turn to the left. Then repeat the pattern again,"Mardukas said. And then:

"_Do not take pictures of girls without their permission. Do not post such pictures on the internet. I repeat, DO NOT do this despicable and illegal act. That means, do not take pictures of Miss Chidori's body for a screen saver, a Christmas card, a mouse pad, or anything! You will make doubly sure that you never allow Sergeant Weber to do the same!"_

"That would go against my principals, sir!" Sousuke claimed.

'If it feels like you just made a box with your feet, you've got it. Practice over and over again with the music until you are comfortable with this basic waltz step," Mardukas said. This was just the first go through. There was time left before Sousuke had to clean up and make the flight back to Tokyo_. _He added:

"_So… let me summarize, Sergeant… if you do anything coarse, rude, or repugnant to Kaname Chidori's body, I will personally cut off your testicles with a dull and rusty knife, and hang them from the ship's yard arm."_

"Da Danaan does not have a yard arm, sir." Sousuke would have been better off staying quiet.

"**Then**… **I**… **will**… **build**… **one**… **Sergeant**." Mardukas began the dance instruction again from the beginning, at a quicker pace. "Hmmm. Maybe I should just have the Chief Mechanic weld me up a chastity belt. I'll hold onto the key." He would be certain to resume grilling Sousuke with truisms, too.

"Uhhh."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sousuke wrapped his wet hair in a towel. He had been told that that was a way to speed up its drying. An odd thought struck him. If long hair was this much work, just what trouble must Medusa go through.

He felt as if he himself were trapped in some ancient Greek myth. No, a Greek tragedy.

The TDD-1s laundry had cleaned Kaname's clothes and he proceeded to get dressed, trying hard not to look at his image in the bathing room's mirror. Commander Mardukas's talk was still too fresh in his mind. His muscles were sore from the man's instructions. Two hours of dancing had, however, gone a long way towards resolving his coordination issues.

After a quick bite in the boat's lunch room, he grabbed his travel bag and headed towards the hangar bay. To save time, he would be chauffeured in an F35Mi, a VTOL aircraft capable of getting him to Tokyo much faster than a helicopter.

"Yes, time is important." Sousuke took off the towel and slung it over the bag. "I have to make it to school on time tomorrow-" And, there was an unknown but very finite amount of time remaining for Kaname and the researchers to find a solution, if one existed. He looked down at the ring. It was still a shade of pink, but one shading to violet. "Patience is a virtue."

There was nothing he could do about the events taking place at the hospital. With every passing moment, everything he did from walking to brushing his long locks helped him sync his mind to Kaname's body. There would be opportunity aboard the fighter jet to organize his thoughts, deciding how to approach his most dangerous mission in a long time: school. School as Kaname Chidori. Kaname Chidori, student council Vice President, sports star, and prep school student.

Naturally, he would not be left alone in the launch area for the pilot to arrive. A familiar duo was waiting there to see him off, and to treat him in the fashion they were wont to. Kurz and Melissa leaned up against a couple of large containers filled with jet engine fuel. Unwisely, Mao had a lit cigarette hanging from her lip. Kurz held a large red heart-shaped box of candy. He was singing ABBA:

"_Ooh  
You can dance  
You can jive  
Having the time of your life  
Ooh, see that girl  
Watch that scene  
Digging the dancing queen. Oh yehhhhh!"_

"This is for you, Sousuke-" Kurz handed him the box. "I want you to think of me very kindly. If you do that, and there's such a thing as body memory, maybe Angel will want to _ooophfff-"_ The air went out of him like a balloon punched too hard.

After socking Kurz, Melissa held her cigarette out to Sousuke. "Here, take a pull." She took a cellphone out of her pocket. "Or at least put it in your mouth without inhaling. I gotta get a picture of Kaname Chidori, bad girl."

"Yeh," Kurz said, regaining his breath. "That would go well with the pictures from the camera I hid in the bathroom." Sousuke knew his friend was lying. He had used spy gear to check the integrity of the room. "But seriously… while you were in there… you must have taken a chance to get a long good look at Kanaaamaaay's lovely body." He looked ready to salivate.

"Negative," Sousuke said. "I did not." He handed the cigarette back to Mao. "I will not."

"Pussy!" Mao put the smoke back in her mouth.

"Idiot!" Kurz looked like he had been personally insulted. "How many men have such a rare opportunity? You can indulge your senses to your hearts content. You don't have to sneak peaks at Kaname in her gym shirt and bloomers. She'll never know what you're looking at. You can sniff yourself all over, with her perfume if you like, or wearing the clothes that smell like her at her apartment. You can try out her voice… 'yes, Sousuke'… 'take me now, stud muffin'… 'I'm cumming… I'm cummmm-mmm-mm-ming… _o…oo… ooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-oh_… _**ahhhhhh-hhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h'."**_

A crowd of transport pilots, aircraft engineers, and launch personnel had gathered to listen in. That only served to egg Weber on.

"And don't forget taste," Kurz said, eyes twinkling. "You can run that tongue over everything you can reach. Kaname has gymnast skills. She's good at bending, if you know what I mean. But let's save the best for last." He was hyperventilating. Really. "Touch. You can touch her all the places you might like." He shaped breasts in the air and then pretended to fondle them. He did the same thing with a pantomimed ass. "Better yet, you can touch anything and everything that Kaname might like to touch. Know what I mean, jelly bean?" He rubbed his hands together. "In a sense, you could get to Third Base all by yourself."

"Stow it, asshole. You're wasting Sousuke's time, here." Mao kneed Weber in the nads. "There's no sense in gabbing about all that school boy shit!" She put out her cigarette on the top of one of the enormous fuel carboys. "You're only going to have so much time. You need to skip right to the good stuff."

"What good stuff?" Sousuke frowned. He knew better than to ask that. The question had slipped out. Damn gremlin!

"Tonight… before you get home… you should go out and get totally shit-faced. "Then… you should fucking go and get fucked. And then, fucked again. Again and again."

"Sis-" Kurz didn't know if he should do a happy dance, applaud, or call for an MP to escort Melissa to a secret pistol-whipping. No, it would take a lot more than one MP. He had to take things seriously. He really _did_ care for Kaname, and would never want to see her taken advantage of. Mao probably felt the same way. Probably. Anyway, Sousuke was probably the last man on Earth who would take advantage of the blue-haired lass.

"I'm serious," Melissa said. "You're a guy. When you finally start wearing your big boy pants, you will get to fuck girls by the dozens." She had heard too many female sailors whispering about Sousuke when he wasn't around. He would never have to work hard for a score. "You can do that until you get old and your cock falls off."

"I heard that happened to Mardukas," one grease monkey said. "I bet that's why he's such a tight-ass mother fucker." Most of the gathered crew laughed.

"I was talking here," Mao said sharply. No one was laughing any more. Most turned around and hurried off to find something useful to do.

"As I was saying," Melissa said, lighting up another smoke, dragging the match along a huge crate filled with munitions. "How many guys get to fucking feel what fucking feels like as a woman? You get to do it both ways, without doing it both ways, if you know what I mean." She saw the look on his face and chuckled. He did know, at least in theory. The things that the late Gauron once said to him were still fresh in his mind. "And… there's a bonus… when it's finally time for you to fuck little miss goody two shoes hard and long, you can be a big-time hero. You'll already know just what she likes best."

"I'll pass," Sousuke said, disappointing Mao the way he always did. He had even more reason to be circumspect, this time. His imagination was running wild. He pictured a large gaseous replica of Commander Mardukas's head floating high in the hangar bay, like something out of the Wizard of Oz.

"No," Mao said sourly. "You fail. You fail big time." She loved ragging on Sousuke, even more than she loved using Weber as a punching bag. She had another evil thought. "I'll pay you one hundred bucks to get a tattoo… or nipple piercings."

When the pilot arrived, Sousuke said his farewells. After climbing aboard the custom two-seat version of the stealth aircraft, he buckled up and put on his helmet. He frowned, remembering something that had been mentioned to him numerous times, by multiple superiors. That thought ended when the jet's Pratt & Whiteney engines roared to life.

When the time was right, the pilot engaged the Rolls Royce LiftSystem, The three-bearing swivel module, a thrust vectoring nozzle at the tail of the aircraft which allows the main turbofan cruise engine exhaust to pass either straight through for forward flight, deflected downward to provide aft vertical lift. Front lift came from a contra-rotating lift fan located forward of the main engine.

"We're off," the pilot said.

"Thank you," Sousuke replied. "I look forward to the flight.

This was the first time he had flown in any variant of the F-35. He started thinking about an earlier VTOL jet, wondering if the jet he sat in owed any design features to it. The Russian Yak-141 'Freestyle' multi-role fighter had been born during a tumultuous period in Russian military history, flying for the first time in 1987. But after one of only two prototypes exploded while landing on the aircraft carrier _Admiral Groshev_ in September of 1991, the program was effectively crippled, and later terminated.

He couldn't keep his mind on point. Thoughts about VTOL aircraft could wait until later. He resumed his earlier thinking. His orders still had him feeling very uncomfortable.

"You can carry no weapons," Kalinin had said. He had been told the same thing by commander Mardukas, Tessa, and Clouseau. Even Kurz had offered to frisk him, to make certain he was unarmed.

"I feel naked." That choice of words had a sweat drop form at one temple.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**LABORATORY**

"You should take a rest while you can," a kindly technician told Kaname.

Sousuke's shirt was plastered by sweat to his body. Normally bothered by her own sweat, Kaname took little notice now. She had to make a great effort to focus her mind consciously, noticing seemingly for the first time, the jury-rigged devices and monitors that had been brought into the laboratory one after the other for the past half hour.

"Would you like a drink?" Someone from the hospital's food court had made another run with refreshments. "Oh… well… never mind…" She noticed the area surrounding Kaname. Every flat surface was covered by empty or near empty bottles and cups, some fallen over in the case of the bottles, and a large number stacked within one another, in the case of the cups. Not knowing how long the process might take, she decided to leave one bottle for later, an ice-cold Canada Dry Ginger Ale.

"Thank you," Kaname said, wondering at first why she wasn't thirsty, if she felt this hot. When her vision cleared, and she could focus again, she scanned the space about her. There was an empty bottle of Mitsuya Cider. Two bottles of Wilkinson Carbonated Water. Coca Cola and Coca Cola Zero. Kirin Lemon. Ramune. Fanta Grape. Dekavita C Double Supercharge. Iced Green Tea. Match Vitamin Drink. Melon soda of three different brands. She belched long and hard, and then apologized profusely to Anne. "Did I…" She shook her head. No. It wasn't possible. "Did I drink all of these myself?"

"Yes," Dr. Necessiter answered. "You chugged most of them down non-stop. I've never seen anything like it."

"I've never _heard_ anything like it," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, mentioning nothing about frightening flatulence , or Kaname burping louder than a thunderstorm. "I'm quite surprised that you've never needed a bathroom break."

"Bathroom?" Kaname suddenly felt the need to pee. Pee _really_ bad! She had been oblivious to everything around her, during and between the cresting-and-falling waves of Whispers. Now, not only did she realize that she needed to void her bladder, she had to face the hideous truth that walked hand-in-hand with that need. "Oh no…." She swallowed hard. "Is there a ladies' Room nearby?"

"Yes," Miss Uumellmahaye said. "But…well… you should probably use the men's room."

"I'll show you," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "I have to take a wizz, myself." He motioned for Kaname to follow him. They left the Lab… tuned left… and walked about twenty paces to a large enclosure that served as a rest room and a dressing area. Urinals lined one stretch of wall. Toilet stalls with doors were located across the way, next to a line of sinks. Showers were at the far end of the room, situated just passed longs lines of lockers. A large digital clock on the wall marked the time to shift change. The current number was very small.

Her mind teetering between sheer panic, and the strange sleep-like state that followed the Whispers, Kaname followed the researcher into the room. As he walked over to a urinal, she headed to the one next to him, like a baby duck following its mother. Standing there, her mind snapped back into focus.

"What?" She saw where she stood. Dozens of thoughts ran through her mind at the same time. She was in Sousuke's body. A man's body. Men's bodies came equipped with appendages that women lacked. Said appendage was intimately involved with the process of micturition. The word intimate was far more than she wanted to think about at that moment. She stepped back from the porcelain contrivance as the man next to her made a long drawn out sigh of pleasure, the one that could only accompany the much-needed draining of one's lizard.

"I need-" Kaname looked around the room. Did the room have what she needed. What exactly _did_ she need? Large gloves like oven mitts might be nice. Or salad tongs. Something like long handle pliers, or even a pair of chopsticks, would do in a pinch. She had no desire whatsoever to touch that… that… that thing! She moved her hand off of her zipper.

"Do you need help?" Dr Hfuhruhurr turned to face her, keeping the rest of his body at the appropriate angle.

"**EEK!"** Kaname took a quick step backward. _**"PERVERT!" **_She looked ready to run for a moment, but quickly regained her composure. She remembered that she was in Sousuke's body. That was what was the root of the problem, so to speak, _wasn't_ it? Perhaps it was alright for a man to ask another man that question. "Sorry."

"If you need me to show you how-" Dr zipped up and turned towards Kaname.

"-" Kaname took more steps back. That was too much. Way too much. Whether she was a she, a he, or a they. "It's okay… I'll be fine… really…." She hurried over to a stall, pushed open the door, closed the door, and latched it.

Feeling as if the headwaters of a dam had built up close to spilling after a long series of rainstorms, Kaname knew that she had no more time to waste. This had to be done. It had to be done right now. She would be damned if she peed her pants like some two year old. In quick precise motions, she removed her pants and stood staring at the toilet. A figurative light bulb went off over her head, an idea coming to mind. She stood over the toilet and squatted, the fleshy appendage in question hanging down over the pot.

"It's sort of like part of an udder," Kaname told herself. "Girl cows have udders." But, that thought back-fired. Udders needed to be milked. The thought of a milking motion had her going cross-eyed. She stood back up by reflex. Damn it. She was about to explode. She would have to do it. Wait. What was that, there? A utensil for cleaning the commode. Gold in color, and with a brush at one end, it had a long tubular shaft, just about the right diameter. If it screwed off….

It did!

Kaname screwed off the handle, slid it over Sousuke's flaccid penis, and waited for the torrent of urine. Nothing happened. Was there some button she had to push? Did she need to say a magic word, like 'Shazam'? Was there some kind of timer? She knew those kinds of thoughts were ridiculous, but she couldn't help herself. She wondered if the flute-like organ might play a merry tune when it finally got around to working.

Without further ado, the crown-jewel of male anatomy did what is would have done earlier, had Kaname not been such an emotional and mental wreck. After she was done, she said a short prayer and made an effort to remove the god-send utensil. But, that handle wouldn't budge.

"Damn it!" Kaname tugged harder. She swallowed hard. The blasted thing hadn't grown hard, _had_ it. Her ears burned, thinking that thought. "Why… won't… it… slide… off…" She pulled this way and that, tugging up and down, swinging her hips and thrusting her pelvis. She was moving too strongly, and was paying far too little attention to her surroundings. She slammed into the door. The latch gave way and the door swung open. "Gah."

Dr. Hfuhruhurr stood there, politely waiting to escort Kaname back. Dr. Necessiter had come in, the thought of other people peeing making him feel the need himself. A number of technicians and security guards who had just gotten off shift had lined up at the urinals.

"I can't say I've ever seen anything like that before." A white-haired man missing half of his teeth pushed his hard hat further down his forehead to cover his eyes. "A man can't un-see that."

"You could have just used your hand," one man called out helpfully. "It's much softer."

"I have a Magic Wand and Hitachi attachment back in my desk," a security guard offered kindly. "It's been cleaned." The item he mentioned was a male sexual device.

"Hey! I know what that reminds me of." A custodian stared at Kaname, who was in a state of shock, because of her assignation, and the afterglow of her Whispers. "That Austin Powers movie… 'Goldmember'!"

"My winkie's a key!' That came from Dr. Hfuhruhurr, a big fan of Mike Myer's movies. He had tried out a fake Dutch accent, mimicking the character of Johan van der Smut, aka Goldmember, who was aptly named.

"Ahh. I see. You're a tripod." Dr Necessiter said that to Kaname the same way that Austin Powers had said it to Mini-Me.

"You look toit," a technician said, peeing on his feet when he stopped paying attention. "Toit like a toiger!" His fake Dutch was better.

"I took a viagra earlier," another technician said, trying to sound like Fat Bastard. "It got stuck in me throat and I've had a stiff neck for hours."

The quotes kept coming. The crowd kept growing. So did the legend.

Kaname acted without thinking. She moved to run quickly from the room. She should have taken the time to pull her pants up. She took a nose dive, bouncing off the floor and finding herself laying ass up.

"Lovely," Yoshihiko Hatoyama said. The Prime Minister of Japan was passing buy in the hallway, on the way to his scheduled tour of the Mithril facilities.

"I wish I were dead," Kaname whispered.

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A lot of material was taken directly from Wikipedia.


	4. Chapter 4

**KANAME'S APARTMENT COMPLEX**

The moon was up.

A sophisticated airplane made a noisy landing in a half-empty parking area of a neighborhood bank, frightening a pair of amorous housecats.

After Sousuke climbed down from the fighter aircraft, he exchanged waves of the hand with the pilot, who then closed the jet's canopy.

When Sousuke reached a safe distance from the aircraft, the pilot pushed a button on the console, which caused the F-35 to re-enter VTOL mode prompted opening of all STOVL doors, revving up the propulsion system, as he prepared to engage the clutch.

Once all doors were open, the clutch engaged and sets of carbon plates pressed together to spin the LiftFan up from a complete stop to engine speed. Once the speeds between the LiftFan and engine became matched, a mechanical lock engaged in order to remove the torque load from the clutch and permit operation at full lift fan power.

_**W-h-i-r-l-w-h-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-s-h-z-i-n-g-w-h-i-r-r-r-r-r**_

With a bone-shaking whooshing sound, the unladen aircraft took to the sky. No weapons were carried, and the fuel supply was relatively low, so that the rarely-used VTOL take-off mode could be used over the preferred STOVL. The swirling gusts of wind cause Sousuke's hair to flutter and snap like a flag, as his long skirt spun and danced like that of a Magical Girl. People looking out of cars and apartment windows saw little of that amazing display, as the dust swirling around Sousuke obscured him while looking like something out of a fairy tale. ECS engaged, the aircraft was not visible to then human eye, and it did not show up on Tokyo radar screens thanks to its enhanced stealth characteristics.

"This is inconvenient,"Sousuke remarked, holding the skirt close against him, feeling somewhat exposed. "Kaname would have something pithy to say. But, for me, nothing comes to mind." He still had time to work on such a changeover, or to come up with a suitable excuse that explained things away. "I wonder if I should call her and…."

No doubt Kaname was very busy. She also might not be quite of her right mind. As such, Sousuke decided not to call her to ask permission to enter her domicile. She had assigned him this mission. So, he had every right to obtain the materials necessary to carry out that mission to the best of his ability. He was still a soldier, whether he was wearing a girl's body or a guy's.

"All seems in order…." Sousuke scanned Kaname's apartment building, not expecting to see any obvious signs of enemy activity, even if an enemy were present. The foe was a top-flight organization, and usually employed professionals whenever possible. Indeed, Amalgam was a force to be reckoned with, an enemy equal to or greater than Mithril. "But… to play the role… I cannot draw suspicion or do anything that will reflect poorly on Kaname." He walked towards the entry way, hoping to be able to make it to his destination without happening upon anyone who knew Kaname and would feel a need to speak with her. "This should be simple. I am a specialist!"

Sousuke walked along the sidewalk, and then made his way up a short entry way lined by small lights. He nodded his head to a polite doorman who held the way open to him. Just as his eyes were adjusting to the indoor lighting, he heard something that had him act warily. He dropped some coins out of his hand, and aimed them to bounce to the side of the double doors. He listened intently as he picked up the coins, coming to a realization that he had given the grinning doorman a panty shot. He was too preoccupied to concern himself with retribution initially.

"Yes," he had seen a woman say into a cell phone. "We are waiting for Miss Chidori to arrive." She was one of a group of elderly women, dressed in tidy outfits and sporting tidy hairdos. Each had a rather voluminous purse, hung over their shoulders by long straps. Who knows what they might be concealing! Each bag could easy hold a submachine gun and a large number of clips, or well-organized kits designed for kidnapping of civilians with little notice of the populace. "So… if you see her… grab her before she gets on the elevator…."

Sousuke immediately reached for a weapon that was not there. He cursed. He was unhappy with his orders. He was at a disadvantage here. Just the same, he made a point to put the money he picked up in a small change purse while continuing to listen. He had a habit of jumping to conclusions and to over-reacting.

"Yes," an unseen woman said to the other. "We need her brain for this." It might sound like an elderly Japanese woman, but Sousuke had been told by Wraith on a number of occasions how North Korean operatives could become almost anyone with a similar height and build. It was possible that a number of old women were held captive some place, or were rotting in some ditch or waterway. "No one in our Mission can succeed without her." What the young operative had no way of knowing was that the grandames were members of the World Mission Society Church, and they were speaking about the crossword puzzles they routinely did with Kaname on that night of the week.

"It will serve no purpose to attack here," Sousuke said, confident that he could raise havoc in Kaname's body, even without weapons. But to what end? He had to protect Kaname's body, and her reputation. And, by calling in a Mithril capture team, there would be a greater likelihood that there would be no escapees, and that any hidden enemy subordinates might be uncovered and taken into custody. "But, I cannot leave without the necessary items." He would need to find another way into the building.

Walking around the side of the building, after giving the stammering doorman a monetary tip, saying that it was in exchange for his _never_ looking at his underwear again, he scanned the surroundings for his prior means of clandestine arrival. There. The tall and stately Japanese White Pine. The tree that he had used the night that he had discovered a black-mailed Shinji attempting to steal Kaname's undergarments, only to be discovered himself by a furious Chidori. He took off his fancy women's shoes and began a quick and determined ascent.

Reaching the level of the second story, he perched precariously at the middle of a bending bough, judging the distance to the top of the concrete wall surrounding Kaname's balcony. Bending his legs in preparation to jumping, he heard the sliding door of the adjacent apartment open. A tall gaunt woman in a night gown, large curlers in her hair, stepped out into the night air with a glass of wine in her hand. Ready to peer up at the moon, she caught sight of Sousuke instead.

"Kaname dearie, is that you?" The woman could just barely make out the young woman's outline.

"Uhhh…" Sousuke almost felt like he was painted by a spotlight in easy view of machinegun towers. "Affirma-… ummm… yes, it is indeed me." That sounded too much like Sagara-speak. "It's me, M'am."

"Well," the woman said, shivering in a sudden chill breeze, one curler unrolling some, as if it were seeking escape. "Whatever for?"

"I forgot my key," was the first thing that Sousuke thought of. "And I was in such a terrible hurry."

"Whatever for?" The woman took a sip of wine. "And why didn't you simply as the night manager for a spare?"

"It-" Sousuke was saved by a random memory, something he had overheard outside of the Merida Island medical office. "I am embarrassed to say… but…" He made certain of his footing. It wouldn't do Kaname's body any good to plummet two stories. "I.B.S…. Irritable Bowel Syndrome… I couldn't wait for the key…." He put a touch of urgency in his speech, and sped his words up. "I wasn't sure that I could last the wait for the elevator and the ride up…." He held his belly in exaggerated fashion. "I guess my bowel was thinking instead of my brain."

"Oh my," the woman looked aghast. "I know how that is! My best friend's youngest son's older cousin has I.B.S." She nodded her head. "You hurry on now… don't let me take up whatever time you have left…." She was certain that Kaname must have 'I.B.S. with diarrhea'.

"Thank you," Sousuke said before leaping. He landed on the edge of the balcony, surprised to see that Kaname's legs were that much weaker than his own. Wind-milling his arms he regained his balance, crouched down, and then slid off of the wall. Fumbling around in Kaname's purse, he located her keyring. He hoped that one of the keys would unlock the sliding door.

"Experiment with fiber. When you have irritable bowel syndrome, fiber can be a mixed blessing," the woman noted. "Although it helps reduce constipation, it can also make gas and cramping worse. The best approach is to slowly increase the amount of fiber in your diet over a period of weeks."

"Yes… I see… I will…." The first two keys did not work. He was very glad that he had declined to wear a wire and an ear-bud. Kurz and Melissa would have a field day had they heard this exchange.

"Avoid problem foods. If certain foods make your signs and symptoms worse, don't eat them," the woman took another drink of wine, so very thankful that she did not suffer from the plague of I.B.S. "Those may include alcohol, chocolate, caffeinated beverages such as coffee and sodas, medications that contain caffeine, dairy products, and sugar-free sweeteners such as sorbitol or mannitol. If gas is a problem for you, foods that might make symptoms worse include beans, cabbage, cauliflower and broccoli. Fatty foods also may be a problem for some people. Chewing gum or drinking through a straw can lead to swallowing air, causing more gas."

"I will be certain to remember that." Sousuke dropped the key ring. Now he would have to start all over again. He had not been paying attention to the precise order of the keys.

"Eat at regular times. Don't skip meals, and try to eat about the same time each day to help regulate bowel function. If you have diarrhea, you may find that eating small, frequent meals makes you feel better." The woman recounted things she had read in a pamphlet she had picked up for that best friend's youngest son's older cousin. "Take care with dairy products. Drink plenty of liquids. Exercise with caution. Use anti-diarrheal medications and laxatives with caution."

"That is good advice, M'am." Sousuke was getting irritable, but his bowel was fine. Not that key, and not that one either. Maybe this one.

"_Hmmm-mm-m_… you know… that cousin is a young man, not much older than you." The woman snapped her fingers. "He was looking for a pretty girl with something in common." She smiled. "I'll tell him your name." She heard Kaname's glass door slide open and close quickly. "What a happy coincidence." She finished her wine and went back inside.

As Sousuke stood for a moment, trying to gain his bearings, he noticed the ring on his finger, bathed in the light of a large moonbeam. It looked Dark Blue. He felt the hair stand on the back of his head. Someone was there! He had been unwary, assuming that the presence of operatives downstairs meant that there would be no enemies upstairs. Amalgam might want to play things doubly safe. And, who said that there might not be more than one den of vipers after the secrets stored inside of Kaname's noggin?

Something struck his foot. He felt something plastic touch his toes. Moving through raw instinct, he leaped and twisted in mid air, landing on his feet further away, swiftly assuming a fighting crouch. He was impressed by Kaname's body's athletic prowess. But it was his soldier's skill set that was needed most now. Or was it? Leg extended, he was ready to perform a sweep if he heard any footsteps headed towards his position. Things were at an impasse.

Something struck his foot again! Was it some kind of attack drone, something like an evil twin of the Roomba automated vacuum cleaner or some similar devices? Might he be sprayed with an anesthetic gas, or feel a drugged needle plunge deeply into his flesh?

Again, a weak impact. This time he clearly heard a faint skittering sound that accompanying the sound of an object rolling across the linoleum floor. Somehow feeling less on edge, he hurried to pull curtains across the sliding door, and then moved to where he remembered the light switches to be on the wall. He turned on the lights. His adversary was revealed.

Kaname's hamster moved his furry little limbs, making the hamster ball roll across the floor. It wrinkled its little nose, and then began its aimless journey again.

"You are lucky I did not have a gun!" Sousuke told the oblivious rodent. He didn't ask himself who truly was the lucky one. In actuality, that would be the residents in rooms next to Kaname's. "Your plastic shield is not bulletproof!" String at the busy little critter, a thought came to mind. He was hungry. And, if he was hungry, the active creature must be hungry, too. He had no idea why the hamster hadn't been put back in his cage. But, there was no one who could feed it now, but him. This was an unexpected duty, but his duty just the same.

"Do you need sustenance?" It was a rhetoric question, but Sousuke felt foolish when he waited for an answer. "I do not wish for you to suffer a lack of required nutrients." He was struck by another thought. What would happen if he couldn't get his own body back? Kaname couldn't live here in his body, could she? Would he have to live here, and be responsible for this animal? That thought was just the tip of the iceberg. Eventually, he shook his head back and forth, as if to shake all of the unbidden thoughts out through his ears. He walked over to the small travel bag thatg he had been carrying and opened it up. He took out an MRE and unwrapped it.

"Here," he opened the hamster ball and held a piece of a Soldier Fuel bar under its nose. It did not nibble. He held out a piece of Xylitol chewing gum. It did not chew. "How about this." He held out a piece of carrot slathered in dripping beef sauce. No luck. "I do not blame you. I appear to be the only one who likes these. Everyone else calls them 'Meals Rejected by Everyone', 'Meals Rarely Edible', and even 'Meals Rejected by Ethiopians'." He made a face. "Because of the low fiber content, the food can sometimes lead to constipation." He coughed, remembering the I.B.S. information interlude. "That prompts other names: 'Meals Requiring Enemas, 'Meals Refusing to Exit', 'Meals Refusing to Excrete,' or 'Massive Rectal Expulsions'. It is probably best that you do not find it appealing." He sat down at a table, hamster ball fully sealed, and consumed the MRE.

Sousuke felt conflicted. He had satisfied his mental hunger pangs, noting how the meal tasted different to him in Kaname's body. But, he had not pleased his physocal body. That taste was not different in a good way. But, it did not matter, as a soldier, his mind held sway over his body. Regardless, he had been taken care of. The rodent had not. "I will find your food." But, doing a quick scouting run, he found no boxes, bins, or jars. "Perhaps she keeps it in the refrigerator."

The refrigerator held mostly condiments and healthy drinks. A half-empty carton of shrimp fried rice stood next to a sealed portion of uncooked fish filets, a daikon radish, and a small container of mushrooms. There was also a bowl covered with aluminum foil. He unwrapped that. There was an untouched pork rib coated with Korean BBQ sauce.

"I am uncertain what hamsters eat," Sousuke admitted. He had no references for hamsters in the military or in any form of armed warfare, so there was a blank spot in the Sousuke-mind. And, he had never had a pet while growing up. Small animals would have been food in Afghanistan. The KGB had no need for hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, and other cute furry things, unless there was some division he was unaware of, who turned the animals into bombs. "I could call Kaname; but she is no doubt busy or exhausted. I could radio for instructions…." He was not going to contact the TDD-1 in this matter. This was not a good reason to break radio silence in this domicile. "Let me think. What animals are similar." He thought a bit. He had seen an Easter commercial a few weeks back. Rabbits!

"But, I also do not know what rabbits eat. It would not be chocolate. _That_ would be cannibalism." He sighed. That was a stupid thought. Chocolate rabbits were not real rabbits. "I did see 'Night of the Lepus', last week." That was the most recent entry in Medrida Island's 'Bad Monster Movie' series. That particular flick… also known as 'Rabbits'… is a 1972 American science fiction horror thriller film based on the science fiction novel 'The Year of the Angry Rabbit'. It concerns an infestation of mutated rabbits in a peaceful Arizona town. Hormones were the culprit in the movie, not the usual radiation trope. The giant bunnies had a thirst for human flesh, and survived attacks by explosives. Townspeople and the Nation Guard electrified a stretch of railroad track and lured thousands of rabbits to their doom. "Flesh is muscle and muscle is meat." Meat it would be.

"I will not sacrifice my body for you," Sousuke told the hamster, taking it out of its ball and placing it in its covered cage. "But… I have other meat." He placed the rib inside of the cage with the animal. He had no reason to rig up explosions or means of electrocution, but his unconscious otaku mind ran through a list of possibilities just the same.

"You are not alone, I see." Sousuke said to the rodent, who had not yet approached the meat. There was a large glass fishbowl on the table top near the hamster cage. A slowly moving gold fish, body sporting camouflage-like splotches of orange, white, and black, swam above a cartoonish plastic castle and small Disney figures that he did not recognize. "I shall need to feed you as well, I suppose." He began a separate search. Something colorful caught his eye. It was a package of Albanese Gummi Worms.

"_Hmmm-mm-m_." Sousuke rubbed his chin. He read the list of nutrients on the back of the package, but the words were unfamiliar to him. There were no instructions, in regards to whether or not the worms were intended as fish food. But, they were located close to the fish bowl. That could _not_ be coincidence! "I will start you off with one." He dropped a blue-and-red candy worm into the water. "If you finish that while I am still here, I will give you more." Kaname would be pleased. While he was by no means domestic, he was taking good care of her animal friends. Sousuke Sagara, humanitarian!

"To business," the young operative told himself. He needed to find Kaname's school books, notes, and any assignments that might be due. Her book bag would also be needed, and might be present with or near the other sundries. "New clothes, too." It wouldn't have been good practice to don the same clothes tomorrow in any case. But, that was doubly true now, since the blouse and skirt he was wearing was covered with pines needles, bark, and tree sap. That had him thinking something else.

"And… I will need to find her gym clothing… and anything she would use for softball." That last word had him feeling unsure. How would he know what to do and say in that sport? He had seen soldiers playing it on base, but was hardly acquainted with the rules and niceties. Now was not the time to fret. He would worry about that when the time came.

"Before I forget-" He realized that he was in Kaname's body, and that meant following Kaname's hygiene requirements. "I will have to use her toothbrush, not mine." He needed to use the restroom anyway. That thought was strangely disturbing. After reaching that room, and doffing his skirt, he slid off his panties, somehow feeling like a pervert doing so. He thought of Commander Mardukas and swallowed hard.

"Somebody stole my-" No. No one had. That significant appendage was no doubt still attached to his swapped body, where it ought to be. "The plumbing is different." He wasn't talking about the sink, toilet, or shower. Without the pomp and circumstances that Kaname had suffered through, he managed to make his bladder one happy camper.

After flushing the toilet, he began gathering up toothbrush, Brilliant More toothpaste, and dental floss. He stood a while, staring at the bathroom mirror, going through another IBE, an In the Body Experience. If this was a dream, he certainly hadn't managed to wake up yet. And he was damn sure that things were way too detailed for a dream. Thinking it would be wise to smell the same way that Kaname normally did, he collected her Ichikami Smooth and Sleek Shampoo, a green bar of soap, and deodorant. "These-" He had no idea which lipstick color might be appropriate, and had no idea how to apply it properly. The same held true to mascara and other beauty products. They could remain here. "That-"

Sousuke began trembling ever so slightly. He had stumbled across something foreboding, like finding himself in a secret minefield, with no knife available to find the location of the explosives in a quick and safe manner. Feminine hygiene products. Sofy brand soft tampons. P&G Japan panty liners. Natural Moon sanitary napkins. An unopened box containing Ulula douche. "I… I will not need these for one night. I am not a specialist in these. No. I… I am less than a greenhorn…." Indeed, he could breakdown any weapon blindfolded, hanging from an exercise bar, and put it back together again while singing a pithy battle hymn. He knew nothing of microorganisms, feminine odor, and the proper maintenance of moisture.

He decided not to use the shower at Kaname's apartment. He was familiar with his own, and would keep tomorrow's change of close for tomorrow not tonight. Leaving the restroom, he resumed his search. Heading into Kaname's bedroom, he passed by a large wicker basket and stopped. The basket held a large number of magazines. Those might prove useful. He would need to have various things to speak about, masquerading as Kaname Chidori, whenever his strategy of staying silent would prove to be impractical. There might also be clues to the behavior of teenage girls. He would pack some up and take them with him. Nature. Elle. Reader's Digest. Business week. Each publication he leafed through was different than the one before it. Kaname certainly had a very broad taste in reading material. He stopped after selecting a dozen.

"I will need to search through these." Sousuke hesitated to open the drawers to Kaname's dresser. There would be private materials inside of them. He was not a stalker, a Nosey Nelly, or a thief. But, Kaname had been the one who set him on this difficult and dangerous mission. As commanding officer, she would bear any blame and accountability. "It is not a problem."

As the young soldier respectfully turned over one piece of clothing after another, he found articles that would serve for the next day's purposes. He froze, holding up a frilly brassiere. Looking at it, he was almost transfixed, like a mongoose staring into a king cobra's eyes. "Uhhh." He coughed and put it down quickly. The final thing on his mental list was bloomers in the school colors. "This-" He found a number of photos laying underneath the underwear and socks. "Is this her mother?" There were pictures from when Kaname was younger. There was a woman he did not recognize. Her identity wasn't a secret, seeing that she was in photos with Kaname's father and younger sister. "I wonder." He felt a strange feeling. It wasn't pain. What was it? He wondered what his father and mother once looked like. Did he have a brother or sister once? Might he still have one somewhere?

Searching in other drawers, he found more recent photos. There was one of Kyouko. There was one with Kyouka, Maya, Shiori, and Ryo. There was one with her softball team. "This-" There was one that had been taken aboard the TDD-1, with Kaname in a dress, standing in front of the submersible's crew. "Why?" There was one final photograph in that drawer. It had been torn completely in two, and then taped back together again. He flipped it over, looking down at his own face. The image was dressed in the school uniform, standing in front of the main school building. He sat there holding the picture for a while, half thoughts never forming a whole.

"They must be in here." Sousuke had reached the final drawer. Moving clothing around, he came across old sports medals and ribbons, some from the United States. He also came across letter-paper with inked handwriting. The ink was smeared in small concentric circles, as if water droplets had fallen on the parchment. "Tears?" Sousuke felt as if he were standing at a gravesite, as if something precious had died. He dared not read the faded note; but, it was no doubt something very sacred and sorrowful to Kaname. Maybe it was a break-up letter from a past boyfriend. "Is it true… is it better to have love and lost…." He did not complete the saying. What did someone like him know about anything besides fighting?

"**Right!"** Bloomers, at last. Now, he would retrieve clothing on hangars from the bedroom closet. When he finished that task, he moved methodically throughout the abode, collecting everything else that he needed. "What in the world-" He saw something that baffled him. "So many shoes! Enough for an army. Or at least a Combat Aviation Brigade or an Armored Combat Regiment. A rack on the floor held footwear of every color, style, and material that he could imagine. Kaname wasn't a shoe thief, _was_ she?

A few minutes later, Sousuke stood staring at Kaname's bed. Should he change plans and sleep here for the night? He picked up the large Bonta-Kun doll. He thought about the time he had spied on Kaname at the amusement park. He remembered taut and treacherous battles with a crazed policewoman. "Thankfully, that was the last we saw of _her."_ No doubt the mentally unbalanced woman had been reassigned. "Fumo fumo." He wondered how well the Bonta-kun A.S. suits were selling. He hadn't heard of any sales after the deal with the Miami police force. Mao had said the machines were 'too fucking cute' to be taken seriously by true professionals. "It's what's on the inside that counts!" _He_ was on the inside. But, he was inside the _wrong _outside.

He decided that his original plan was best, if only because the radio set-up was at his place, and he might need to contact Mithril before school time. There were no secure lines in this apartment complex.

"I'm leaving." Sousuke handed the defense of Kaname's apartment over to the hamster and the goldfish.

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**STREETS OF TOKYO**

"It's a little late now," Sousuke said.

The boy-inside-a-girl was not talking about the hour, even though it _was _actually a fair bit past dinner time. No, he was talking about the opportunity to call in for transport by Mithril means, or by using the Uber app to hail a taxi cab.

"It will not be a problem," Sousuke opined. "It is not as if a Venom will break ECS, or twin Chinese assassins will jump into the street." Heavy bookbag and separate satchel draped over his shoulders, he made his way along illuminated streets on the way to his apartment. A man at heart, he didn't understand how the same walk he had taken many times before could be less safe for Kaname Chidori than it was for Sousuke Sagara.

There was also the question of how much Chidori he was, and how much Sagara. His coordination between mind and body was growing better minute by minute and hour by hour, but it was by no means perfect yet. And while he had his former martial knowledge, he also had to deal with his current level of physical prowess, or lack thereof.

"Just a few moments more, and I will work on a clandestine insertion." Souuke had buried a number of plastic crates amongst the yard area of his apartment building. Each crate held different things that he might need in some form of mission, from surveillance ops all of the way up to serious combat. He had the locations mapped out in his mind, not on paper. He just hoped that no one had found the particular stash.

"My… my… my…" An unfamiliar voice spoke. "Someone sent us a gift, a peach plucked from the heavenly garden." The speaker was a gangly looking man with a fuzzy face, long hairy arms, and hair that stood up in two sweeping arcs.

"Nah…." Another man spoke. "I'd say it's more like a cherry. You know how I like my cherries." The laugh was perverted and full of innuendo. "Only sissy boys worry about peaches." The man had a large flat nose, flappy jowls, and a very rotund belly. He emptied a bag of candy-covered peanuts in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

"Hey now… no fighting…" The third speaker sounded like he often played the role of peacekeeper between the other two. Like the others, he wore a teal-colored satin jacket, with the word 'MONKS' emblazoned across it in vibrant golden thread. He had an orange beard, a half-bald head, and wore a necklace with small pewter skulls. "We could treat the lady nice, you know. Maybe Karaoke."

"Oh… I'll make her sing, alright." The fuzzy-faced man made a mock bow to Sousuke and said "My name is Su Hei Wukong. You may call me your handsome king. Don't worry about the ugly one. I'll keep you to myself." He licked his lips.

"**Shit!"** The ugly one exclaimed. "I'll make her grunt until she likes it, and then squeal until she can't take any more." He laughed, hand on his zipper. "My name is Zhu Daizi. You should tattoo _that_ on your ass, so I'll always be there."

"Sloppy thirds again, I guess." The bearded man sighed. "But I really think we should treat her nice, first." He waved to Kaname. "Hello. My name is Sandy Wujing. But… well… those two just call me Water Buffalo."

"You can give shit a name," Sousuke started, recalling some that Mao had said before. "But it's still just shit." Those words in Kaname's voice sounded strange, and had all three aggressors go slack-jawed.

"I might keep her tied up in my basement for a while," the ugliest member of the trio remarked a few moments later. "I have good uses for a potty mouth." He brought forth something he had kept behind his back. It looked like a long thin wooden rake with nine pointed teeth.

"Sounds like she's all pit and no peach," the fuzzy dude quipped. He was holding a medium length staff, engraved with the words 'Bang Bang.'

"But-" The bearded man winced when the other two shouted 'Whose side are you on!' He reluctantly brought forth his own staff, one Be-Dazzled with pearls and shiny strips of white cloth.

"You cannot use weapons," Sousuke said in a rare moment of sarcasm. He pictured Lieutenant Commander Kalanin saying those words. But wait. Kaname was an athlete. She could probably outrun these buffoons. No. Not while carrying all this weight. And, he could not simply throw all of the items away. They were of the utmost importance for school tomorrow. He could not let Kaname down! But… wasn't taking care of her body his utmost goal? The time it took for the internal debate played his hand for him. He was surrounded. "But… of course…_** I**_ am a weapon."

"What did you say, cutie?" Su Hei sweepty his staff around, intending to put the blue-haired girl on her back. It would be _easy peasy lemon squeezy_ after that.

"Wouldn't matter if you were," Zhu snorted. "I have_ two_ weapons. If this story were an anime, the portion of male anatomy hanging from his pants would be pixelled-out. He tried to snare the girl's flowing skirt with the pointed teeth on his weapon. He coordinated his movements with the silent Sandy.

"I'm glad that they trained me in Systema," Sousuke thought to himself, thinking back to his days in KGB captivity. That style of fighting, originating with the Cossacks, and made use of by Spetsnaz and other Russian special forces, concentrates on things such as self-protection against knife, club or gun…grappling… and weapons training… as well as personal wellness. Systema students train for real-life combat situations and the potential to defend against multiple armed opponents.

To any onlooker, the motions were all too fast to see. The three would-be rapists were no slouches, by any means. But, as befit their history of past successes, they were overconfident. Staves and rakes lashed out, rising and descending from every possible angle, with different speed and spins. But, the attackers also made good use of their limbs, snapping out punches and kicks.

"_Damn."_ Sousuke was struck several times, with glancing blows that did no real damage. He was upset. He didn't want to collect even a single small bruise. He focused on his breathing. That was an important part of Systema training. That system does not use techniques in the traditional sense of the word. Instead, it uses natural and logical movements intended for maximum efficiency which can be easily modified for any situation at hand. Not only does this mean that it can be used for anything from cradling a newborn child to disarming multiple armed attackers, but that these things can be done all at the same time. While techniques are taught, they generally have no practical use of their own; they are intended to develop certain qualities in the student's movement. That helped Sousuke bring in features of other hand-to-hand methods he had learned.

The attackers grew frustrated and furious. How could they miss? That stupid cow didn't seem to be doing anything fancy like kung fu, but she was blocking or dodging all of their attacks with ease. At least she didn't seem capable of attack. With code words called out to one another, they doubled their efforts with a fierce coordinated assault. The sound of wood striking street was staccato and scary.

Systema ignores most of the more artistic aspects of martial arts, such as forms, patterns and poomsae in favor of drills to improve proficiency in such things as awareness, three dimensional movement, grappling, striking and weapons. Now it was time for Sousuke to teach a harsh lesson.

"**Shit!"** Sousuke knew what to do in whichever situation arose, but he was still dealing with Kaname's reflexes and muscles. Everything seemed a few inches off, or a few seconds too slow. But, in the sense that a sharpened stick can put out an eye as well as one tipped with the deadliest of blades, good enough was more than enough. Dodging three weapons thrusts, he grappled with the fuzzy man and slammed his head hard against a brick wall. That attacker dropped to his knees, momentarily stunned.

"_**Bitch!"**_ The ugly one swung his rake straight for the girl's eyes. Blind or not, she would be a good lay. He grunted in disbelief when three strong strikes pummeled his arms and chest. He dropped his weapons and squealed in pain, as the fingernails on the girl's hand sank deep into his male organ before twisting and pulling sharply. _**"Mother fuck!" **_He dropped to his knees, before his face bounced off the pavement, thanks to a chop to the back of his neck.

"Hmmm," Sousuke said, ducking under a whistling staff, light shining off of its pearly inserts. "Maybe I should teach _Kaname_ Systema." Her body had proven itself sufficient for 'The System'. A disciple's body had to be free of tensions, filled with endurance, flexibility, effortless movement, and explosive potential. Check, at least for everything but the tension part. The psychological state… or spirit, if you will… has to be calm, free of anger, irritation, fear, self-pity, delusion, ego and pride. "Uhhh… maybe not…."

"Get up, guys!" Orange beard spun his staff like an airplane propeller, before lashing out with a wicked blow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his two compatriots struggle to their feet, propping themselves up on their weapons. "It's just… one… little… girl…." He missed, and wound up to strike again.

Systema has four pillars: Breathing, Relaxation, Body Position, and Movement. Also key, is utilizing an attacker's momentum against them and controlling the six body levers… elbows, neck, knees, waist, ankles, and shoulders… through pressure point application, striking, and weapon applications.

"I'm growing weary." Sousuke felt a short stab of fear. Kaname's stamina for fighting was far less than his own. He would have to disobey orders, but only in the most literal of senses. He would not be using a gun, a knife, or a grenade. "I will borrow this." He grabbed the bearded man's elbow in such a way that he exclaimed in pain, before dropping his staff. The weapon never hit the ground, ending up in Sousuke's grip. "The balance is pretty good."

Motions blurred again, but much different this time. The two barely-conscious attackers shouted sexual innuendo and made demeaning comments about women. But, their strikes seemed much more girlish that Sousuke's. The third man lay unconscious, the victim of successive strikes to the temple areas. What's more, Sousuke's calmed and smooth motions suddenly turned ugly and violent. He had been trained by people other than the KGB, of course. Hearing so many Kurz-like comments, he automatically switched over into Mao-Mode. Teeth bounced across the ground, looking like large falling hailstones. Blood spurted from noses and mouths alike. Bumps arose on the bodies, like sprouting mushrooms. The beat-down looked more like something from an anime than from real life.

"Monks," Sousuke said, standing over three barely-waking bodies. His breath was ragged and he was sweating profusely, but he was unharmed and able to walk home readily enough. "I will remember that name. Yes… I… will…" With those three words, he struck three groins with force enough to rupture testicles or at least induce an enormous amount of bruising and swelling. "If I _ever_ hear word of another woman falling prey to anyone of your description, I will seek you out and finish the job." His words carried all of the finality of a headman's axe. "You made me tear my skirt."

There had been witnesses to the fight, even though no one had called out or hurried over to offer assistance. The legend of a blue-haired demon would spread though nearby neighborhoods.

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**SOUSUKE'S APARTMENT COMPLEX**

"Nearly there."

Sousuke meant the supposed safety of his secure sanctuary, not his apartment building proper. He was spying on that edifice now, his shadowy form hidden behind a well-manicured hedge.

"That was quite the commotion." His fight with the three-man gang must have drawn some attention. Someone out walking their dog. Young lovers sneaking away for some time together. Snoopy people peering quietly from their windows, porches, or doors. Someone. "But… things seem quiet… for now…."

There was no screaming of sirens or bright spirals or red and blue lights as police cars converged on his location. He had no need to swat away drones, the way that he was brushing away mosquitoes. Black-clothed and masked Amalgam ninjas were not dropping from stealth gliders. There had been no return of the guerilla grannies from Kaname's apartment. "We have the green light," Sousuke told himself. It was go-time. He could find the particular stash that he needed. "Five steps from the edge of the hedge, facing north." He did so. "Two paces to my right." He did that as well. "Ten feet east." He dropped to his knees, his skirt moved out of the way. With both hands, he dug through soft soil and mulch. "I hope I do not chip a nail." He found a metal ring and pulled firmly, standing up. The ring was attached to a long thin chain. The chain was attached to a plastic box with a combination lock.

"Victory," Sousuke said softly, brushing dirt off a tan plastic bin. He keyed in a code, and the top opened. He sorted through items inside. _"Perfect."_ He took out a sealed plastic bag, opened it, and removed a full body length camouflage-pattern parka with a hood. He had worn these inside the apartment lobby before. Anyone at the desk should assume it was a scar-faced boy underneath. "Would anything else serve?" The pistol and clips? Unfortunately, not. The brass knuckles? Also regrettably a negative. The small GPS unit? Maybe. He would take it along. Cliff Notes books in Japanese, covering a number of subjects? This is where he's left them! Great.

Now, wearing his parka with the hood pulled far over his blue locks, Sousuke made his way into the lobby of his building. When the desk manager called his name and held up some mail, he gave the man a thumbs up and grabbed the envelopes, saying nary a word. Not wanting to wait for an elevator, he took to the stairs, running. He made it to his room with no trouble… opened the door and practically jumped inside… and closed the door behind him, feeling a great feeling of relief wash over him like a cold watery wave.

"First, I will get out of these clothes." Sousuke intended to get into his Mithril-issue pajamas before finishing up his night's work. He would radio DaDanaan with updates. He would call Kaname and check up on her and her progress. He would read the magazines. "But-" He stood at the door to his weapons closet. "I am alone, now…." No one would see what he did next. He opened the door.

The closet was a veritable treasure trove of military mayhem. Sousuke cradled a Benelli M4 Super 90 Semi-Automatic Combat Shotgun like it was his newborn son. He patted a Colt M203 40mm Single-Shot Breech-Loading Under-Barrel Grenade Launcher like it was the head of his favorite nephew. Likewise, the Colt M4A1 SOPMOD Carbine Rifle with Special Forces Modification Kit, Glock 17 and Glock 18 received gentle caresses, as did the Fabrique Nationale FN SCAR Modular Automatic Assault Rifle, Heckler & Koch HK MP5K, HK 21, and HK G36, and a Sig Sauer P228. That didn't mean that he ignored his AK-74M, the Dragunov SVD, a 9×21mm Gyurza SPS, or one of many NRS survival knives. "Your father is home," he said, gently lifting a Carl Gustav Recoilless Rifle off of a hook. He had to at least hold a weapon or two, or else he would feel like a dead-beat dad. "But father must get undressed, now. Maybe a bedtime story later."

For Sousuke, it was still simpler to speak to his familiar weapons than it was to talk with stranger students and instructors. They really shouldn't be strangers after all of his time at the school; but, it was his way. Not only was he always focused on Kaname and their surroundings… and always suspicious of everything living and non-living when he was around her… but he also eternally seemed like a solitary soul, even when surrounded by a sea of humanity. But… thanks mostly to the blue-haired girl… he was at least making painfully slow progress. Tomorrow, he would have to burst through that fearsome and sturdy barrier, or find a suitable excuse. He would indeed _be_ Kanqame Chidori, and all that came with that marque.

When he made his way to the bathroom and disrobed, he felt unnerved, caught entirely off guard. "There is some blood…" There was a small red stain in the cradle of his panties. "Did I receive a serious blow without knowing…." He took a Kleenex and rubbed himself down below. Sure enough, there was a slight amount of fresh blood. "What is the significance of a wound there? What do I do to stop the bleeding? Will I need a medic?"

There was only one way to answer those questions. He was due for a check-in, anyway. He made his way over to his radio console, unembarrassed by his naked state, and dialed the number for the TDD-1 com room. Getting a reply, he asked to be patched through to Belfangan Clouseau, but he was not available. Mao would do in his place.

"Mao," Souuske said in a rush, when Melissa came on the feed. "I fear I have experienced internal injuries."

"_What?!"_ Mao assumed a serious voice. "How serious? How did it happen?"

Sousuke described everything, from climbing up and down trees, to his embroglio in the city street, and to his bathroom discovery. He was shocked to hear Melissa say 'Shit,' and start chuckling.

"This one is above my pay grade," Mao said, trying to keep the vocal equivalent of a straight face. "I'll have to refer you to the Captain." She paused. "Tessa will be a big help, I am sure."

"The Captain?" Sousuke was confused. "Don't you mean Doctor Goldberry?"

"She would do fine, too." Mao replied. "But Tessa is your age. And… well… let's just say she's perfect." She didn't expect Sousuke to be suspicious in any way, shape, or form. "I'll go get her." The line went silent for a few minutes.

"_Sergeant Sagara_! _**Sousuke!"**_ It was Tessa. "Melissa told me that you are injured and needed my help. Tell me everything that happened." She listened intently as Sousuke spun his tale. When he got to the final part, her eyes went wide and she swallowed hard. "That… Melissa!... _drat_ her, she's gone…"

"Captain?" Sousuke remembered what he had been told before. "Uhhh… Tessa…."

"Ummm…." Tessa seemed subdued and shy, her voice slow and stilted: "Well… you see… it's like this, Sergeant… I mean Sousuke." There was a long pause. This time, Tessa sounded like she was on the bridge, directing Commander Mardukas to launch cruise missiles at an Amalgam laboratory or research facility. "You are experiencing Menstruation. As you may or may not already know, menstruation is the regular discharge of blood and mucosal tissue known as menses from the inner lining of the uterus through the vagina. The first period usually begins between twelve and fifteen years of age, a point in time known as menarche. However, periods may occasionally start as young as eight years old and still be considered normal. The typical length of time between the first day of one period and the first day of the next is twenty-one to forty-five days in young women, and twenty-one to thirty-one days in adults… but I sincerely hope that today and tomorrow are the only days you will have to go through this. You won't need to know that bleeding usually lasts around two to seven days _unless_ Kaname does not succeed in her mission."

"But…" Sousuke shook off the obvious pessimistic thought. "So… the bottom line is that there is nothing to be concerned about…." There was plenty to be concerned about. But other than personal cleanliness issue, the bleeding would not affect his health or combat readiness.

"Not really," Tessav replied. "Girls can develop acne, tender breasts, bloating, fatigue, irritability, and mood changes during their period." She took a moment to add: "I suspect Miss Chidori is _always_ menstruating, right?" He chuckled at her quip. "But seriously, because her symptoms may interfere with normal life, they qualify as premenstrual syndrome… you know… PMS…."

"I see," Sousuke sdaid in a clinical style of voice. "I am suffering what they call a period." He felt relieved, and yet very disturbed. Men do _not _have periods. He _was_ a man. This was above _his_ pay grade. "I am on the rag. I am having a visit from Aunt Flo. Lady Business. That time of the month. The Red Badge of Courage. Crimson Tide…"

"Sousssskay." Tessa said.

"The Girl Flue. The Red Wedding… not the one from Game of Thrones. Carrie. Mother nature's gift…." Sousuke was on a roll.

"_Sous-kay Sagara."_ Tessa tried again to stop the flow of words.

"The Red Baron. Riding the Cotton Pony. Shark Week…." Sousuke closed his eyes tightly when he heard Tessa's scream through the com set.

"**SERGEANT SAGARA I ORDER YOU TO SHUT UP!"**

For a few moments, Sousuke could only hear Tessa try to regulate her breathing, before saying: "That will be enough, Sousuke." She then went on to explain what he needed to do. She finished by saying "I hope I helped," before discussing Mithril matters with her subordinate.

"Tessa?" Sousuke sought one final answer. He had thought of something. The Captain had helped him. Perhaps he could help her.

"Yes, Sousuke?" Tessa replied.

"Your shouting before," ousuke started. "Are you suffering acne… are your breasts tender… are you bloated… are you particulary tired…."

Before he finished, the line went dead.

After his communications, Sousuke got dressed in Sousuke-clothing, balled up his hair and snugged it inside of an over-sized and wide-brimmed giggle hat. He slipped on a pair over boots a few sizes too large for him now, and made a run to the nearest all-night pharmacy, a kerchief covering all but his eyes. He made it back home in record time.

"I… well… it _was_ my error." Sousuke spilled the contents of his paper bag into the bathroom sink. "I should have brought those… items… from Kaname's apartment." He then did the things that Tessa had instructed him to do.

Once again, he stared transfixed at the mirror for a moment. He made certain that he had no visible bruises. He could stare into Kaname's eyes this way, without feeling self-conscious or ashamed, the way he always did after she yelled at him or dressed him down. During the times she had been sweet or grateful, he had not known how to meet her gaze.

"Is that-?" He squinted and leaned closer to the reflective glass. "Am I developing a zit?" He didn't think so after all. Good thing. He was sometimes a card-carrying member of the 'If all you have is a hammer, treat everything like it's a nail' club. One does not disarm a pimple like one is facing a live munition. Entrenching tools and combat knives were not the proper tools for dealing with facial blemishes. Bleach was good in the laundry, but not on rosy cheeks.

Walking past his own clothes closet, he noticed how haphazardly everything was arranged. Some clothing was appropriately creased, while others looked like it had been run over by a hovercraft during an assault landing. Remembering what Kaname's closet had looked like, he felt somewhat uncomfortable. Should he ask her to help him arrange his wardrobe better? Did he need a better wardrobe? He would draw the line at shoes, in any case. He was _not_ foot obsessed.

"I should call her," he said, thinking of Kaname. "Hopefully at this hour, they are done for a while." He was conflicted. He didn't want Kaname to wear herself out, mentally. He was not concerned about his body's endurance and natural resistance. But, he couldn't put her mental condition before both of their overall condition. He wanted to be himself again. Whatever kind of life he had lived up to that point, it had been his own. He had no doubt that the owner of the body he was borrowing felt exactly the same way.

"Hello, this is Sergeant Sousuke Sagara-" He spoke when someone at the Neurological Hospital laboratory answered the phone.

"And this is _not_ civilian Kaname Chidori," a male voice answered. "This is the ever so brilliant and equally handsome Dr. Necesitter." There was the sound of laughter in the background. "Shut up! Sorry, I don't mean you, Sousuke. Dr. Hfuhruhurr is being his usual jealous self again."

"Give me that!" It was a different voice. Dr. Hfuhruhurr had grabbed the phone from his compatriot. "I know what you are thinking of. Your sweetheart. And our progress." There was sound of a struggle for the phone, but he prevailed. "The first thing I will say, is that it's a good thing that she's in your body and not her own. I don't think she could keep going, if she were in her original body. Hey… _owww_…"

\"She'd have no need to do _any_ of this-" a woman's voice said. It was Miss Uumellmahaye. "-If she were in her original body." There was a pause. "Which I hope you are taking very good care of."

"M'am, yes M'am!" Sousuke stood at attention, in his sagging pajamas.

"_**I**_ will speak to the Sergeant," Anne's voice snapped. She directed her co-workers to straighten up the lab during their break period. No one knew how much time they had before the next wave of Whispers struck. They all made yawning noises, reaching the end of their endurance. Another group of scientists would take watch, so to speak. "Hello… I'm back… sorry to keep you waiting." She explained to Sousuke what type of work was being done… how many different work crews and scientific teams had been building how many types of machiner and devices… and how many other groups had been putting Kaname's vocalizations to one test after another.

"How is Kaname?" Sousuke asked. "May I speak to her." He was worried about her, and after the day he had had, he was filled with questions.

"She's doing as well as could be expected, I guess." Anne seemed somewhat concerned, but not extremely so. "It's been rather odd, watching her go through all those spells. If there _are_ aliens involved, she will be sending them one hell of a bill I ewager. No… stop…."

"I'll take over now," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "Nessie… you hold her off… she might tell the boy about some of our… mistakes…." That was not a comforting aside. "I mean… who would have guessed that we didn't need to shave all of the hair off of his head to get the Psionic Amplifying helmet to work."

"Helmet?' Sousuke had momentarily forgotten about Kaname. _"Hair?"_ They had shaved of 'his' head? That 'his' meant him, didn't it?

"The helmet is our version of a magic cap. Unlike Fortunatus's helmet-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr couldn't finish. The body-telephone transfer took place again.

"Let me explain," Dr. Necessitter said. "Fortunatus was one of the best-known and most widely-circulated stories in medieval and early modern Europe. It would certainly have been widely known and enjoyed, by both adults and children, in England, where it was published in a variety of formats. Thomas Dekker, for instance, turned it into a play. Gradually the tale was altered and abridged until it became accepted as a children's story. In his poem 'The Prelude', William Wordsworth names Fortunatus as one of the folk tales that children used to-"

There was the sound of another struggle. It sounded like the three researchers were in on it, joined by at least one MP.

"Perhaps the most memorable parts of the story involve Fortunatus acquiring a magic purse and magic hat," Dr. Necessiter added. He did not look it, but for a wiry scientist, he was made of iron. "Famished and sleeping in a forest, our story's pundit wakes to find himself in the presence of a beautiful lady. She tells him that she is Lady Fortune and gives him a purse which continually refills itself. This enables Fortunatus to return home, where he gets married and has two sons. Many years later he goes on his travels again and tricks his way into owning a wishing-hat….'"

More struggling. More MPs. And by the sound of it, at least one irate administrator.

"A wishing hat which will transport him instantly to any place which he desired to be," Dr. Necessiter continued. "As you probably know, magical objects which grant wishes to the owner are common in fairy tales and have engaged children for centuries. Think of it as Lambda Drivers for the common man."

"You should leave medieval tales to the historians, and explain the science, moron." Dr Hfuhruhurr sounded a bit huffy. He held the hot potato now. "Unlike Fortunatas's cap, the Psionic Helmet only _sounds_ magical. It-"

"Maybe you should get around to telling the boy about Miss Chidori," Anne said with a grunt. Dr Hfuhruhurr could be heard making a pained grunting sound himself.

"I will take over now," a stranger's voice said. "This is Toyotomi Mitsunari, Vice President of hospital operations. You may not know me, but I have heard of you. I thank you for your many services on all of our behalf." Spoken like a true diplomat. "Miss Chidori is currently grabbing some shut-eye, on a cot we borrowed from the facility's barracks. We have made him… her… as comfortable as we possibly can."

"I see," Sousuke said, sadly. He had wanted to hear the sound of Kaname's voice, foolishly realizing that he merely had to speak to do that. Just the same, he had wanted to hear from her lips… his lips, really… that she was doing fine. He had wanted some reason to hold out hope. He listened for a while as the Administrator detailed the day's events, including science learned, and theories applied. There were already enough pending and possible experiments to last a month. The trick would to be find the one that solved the problem at hand.

"It sounds like you should get some sleep, yourself" Mr. Mitsunari said. "While I may not be your commanding officer, please take that as a command."

"Yes, Sir!" Sousuke yawned. It was funny, all it took was for someone to tell him to get some sleep to have him to realize just how tired he was. "I will!"

When Kaname's head hit Sousuke's pillow, sleep came quickly and mercifully.

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When Sousuke's alarm sounded, he yawned and hit the 'Alarm off' button on his bedside console.

He slowly got out of bed, discovering the effects of Kaname's early morning low blood pressure. He methodically did all of the things that he needed to do to get ready for the school day, including taking a shower, brushing his teeth and his hair, applying make-up the way a Google tutorial taught, and spit-shining a pair of Kaname's shoes.

When he was finished with his tasks, he sat down to read one last magazine as he chowed down on his modern version of Imperial Japanese Rations, field rations issued by Imperial Japan in World War II. The food reflected the culture of the Japanese military: the rations had to be stout, durable, simple, and sturdy… just like Sousuke… to be able to survive without refrigeration for long periods of time.

A stickler for history, Sousuke served his meal in a tin box similar the historical _han-gou_. He had arranged that meal in haphazard fashion. mixing rice with barley, canned sausage, pickled burdock and lotus root, some mandarin orange slices, and a glob of bean paste. He washed it all down with green tea. "I doubt that Kaname is in danger of a vitamin deficiency. Unless _that _is the cause of her circulatory insufficiency." The reason why rice was issued with barley was to combat nutritional deficiencies such as beriberi. In wartimes, soldiers would often be forced to forage for fresh fruit to provide vitamins. "I wonder if Kaname would have preferred sushi." He was referring to the girl's tongue, which at the moment was his tongue. He hadn't asked anyone aboard DaDanaan about coordinating _his_ tastes to _Kaname's_ body.

Imperial Japanese rations could contain canned tuna or squid ,canned cabbage, coconut, sweet potato, peaches, lychee or beans. Three teaspoons of pickled radish, pickled cucumber, umeboshi, scallions and ginger added flavor to the rations. Sometimes less than an ounce of dried seaweed was issued for making sushi in the field. Beer and or sake was issued to help boost morale, but Sousuke omitted that. He was not Mao. And, naturally, he thought it best for Kaname's body to arrive at school not reeking of alcohol.

"No," he noticed. "I do _not_ reek." He was sporting the smells of Kaname's soap, body wash, and shampoo, not to mention her deodorant. He had omitted the perfume that he found, remembering someone once saying that fancy fragrances were frowned upon on school grounds. "But… that accident was unfortunate…. Or was it?" He sported a goose-egg sized bruising bump on his forehead. Kaname's forehead. He had uncharacteristically slipped on the bar of soap in the shower. Perhaps it would provide a practical excuse at school.

After breakfast, he cleaned up and prepared to leave for school.

"In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable," Sousuke said, quoting General Eisenhower. He quickly went over the plans that he had gone over the day before, as well as those that had come to him in his in dreams. "Battles are won by slaughter and maneuver. The greater the general, the more he contributes in maneuver, the less he demands in slaughter." He would have to be great, today. There could be no slaughter. That would have made Winston Churchill a happy bloke.

For a few minutes, Sousuke simply stood standing at his front door, as if his feet had been enclosed in concrete or nailed to the tiles. He was not a coward, and was no stranger to the feeling of butterflies in his stomach before a major engagement. He was not up against tanks, arm slaves, or attack helicopters today. That was child's play. Today he was up against high school students, including the most dangerous member of that species: high school girls.

"Breathing exercises," he said. "Remember the breathing exercises." And, one more quote for the road: "World War I broke out largely because of an arms race, and World War II because of the lack of an arms race." That was once said by Herman Kahn, founder of the Hudson Institute; one of the preeminent futurists of the latter part of the twentieth century; a military strategist and systems theorist who had become known for analyzing the likely consequences of nuclear war and recommending ways to improve survivability; all of that making him one of three historical inspirations for the title character of Stanley Kubrick's classic black comedy film satire 'Dr. Strangelove'. Sousuke sighed. "I am tasked today with a race to prevent World War III, without arms." Indeed. School is hell.

He removed the safety latch, undid the remaining security locks, and stepped out into the hallway, large school bag in hand. After locking the door, he headed off towards the elevator. He had decided against wearing the parka again. It imparted a sour odor, and would mess up his hair and clothing. His departure was earlier than usual, and there should be few people in the hallways or lobby, and none of those would connect Kaname with him. Or so he thought.

A door down the hallway was open. A middle-aged woman with a gown and hairdo that would have been perfect on a geisha girl had stepped out to pick up a bundle of shopping magazines and store coupons tied with a waxy twine. She stood there now, having seen Kaname's body leave Sousuke's apartment… a remarkable and unique sight. first thing in the morning… or any time of day or night, for that matter. There was an easy conclusion to draw.

"My, aren't you a pretty one," Miss Iwasaki said, always ready to maintain her reputation as the biggest gossip in the building. "And I was beginning to worry that young Mister Sagara was light in the loafers." She also hosted a video blog that reached tens of thousands of subscribers. "I hope the two of you are big fans Sailor Moon and her cat Luna." Those two famous characters adorn the packaging of about sixty thousand condoms distributed to the Japanese public as part of a campaign to prevent the spread of STIs in Japan and, more specifically, a rise in the number of syphilis cases.

"I-"Sousuke felt like a deer caught in headlights.

"And if you don't get checked, Auntie Iwasaki will punish you." The grinning woman was borrowing the campaign slogan. To her, safe sex is serious business, and not something to fuck around with.

"Uhhh-hh-h-"

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_The trials and tribulations of our favorite Jindai students continues._

_I wonder if anyone will figure out the inspiration for the three alley-way attackers_

_Once again, a huge debt is owed to Google and Wikipedia._


	5. Chapter 5

**STREETS OF TOKYO**

The early morning sun peered down at Sousuke from its height above the cloudless Tokyo sky.

"I have plenty of time to reach the targeted train," Sousuke said, his hair tossed by wind strong enough to kick up small dervishes of leaves and dust. "No… that is not proper wording. I am not targeting the train."

He strode at a goodly pace along a well-swept brick sidewalk, in a stretch of city dotted by old but quaint homes, their owners or renters out tidying up blown leaves and the very rare piece of errant garbage before they began their days.

"Here you go sweetie, this might help." A toothless woman dressed in a simple coat held a bright red ribbon in her hand. "You're so lucky to have such long luxurious hair."

"Affirmative… I think…." Sousuke stood still politely, as the woman tied the ribbon on 'his' hair, binding the fluttering mass of blue into one long pony tail. "I thank you, M'am." Sousuke offered to buy the ribbon, but the woman would not except any form of payment. He offered to help sweep, but the kindly woman would hear nothing off it.

"I wouldn't want you to get dirty of sweaty," the woman said, her eyes opening wide and sparkling. "A girl like you must have a boyfriend at school." She chuckled before suffering a quick wheezy cough. "Maybe more than one."

"None that I know of," Sousuke said. He knew of Fuwa sempai of course, but that was a past thing. He'd know if Kaname had any boyfriend now, wouldn't he? He felt a twinge of jealousy, but easily fought it down. It was an alien feeling, and one he would not tolerate during a mission. But, some things were easier said than done. He and Kaname may still be orbiting each other like planets, but they had grown a great deal closer.

"-" He had another thought. If by some miracle Kaname did have a secret boyfriend, he would not do everything needed to keep up appearances. If a boy tried to kiss or grope him in that body, Kaname would be looking for a new beau. The police would be looking for a missing person.

Resuming his quick pace out of habit, the young operative nodded at more friendly folks who called out greeting or words of encouragement. Was this because these people knew Kaname? Or, was it because she was a nicely dressed and pretty young woman? In his own body, he rarely heard any kind words from strangers. Was that because of the way he looked, or because of the perpetual scowl he wore? It seems that 'being' Kaname Chidori might help him learn about her, and find out things about himself.

"Ahhh-" Sousuke stopped dead in his tracks. A discarded city paper clung to his face, like one of the larval stage monsters in the movie 'Alien.' Peeling it off of his face, he prepared to fold it up and place in his school bag, as there were no trash receptacles on the streets of Tokyo. Looking at the open page, he frowned. 'Copy Cat criminals take inspiration from the Pony Man', one article read. "Well… no one like that will have any gripe against me now…." Once again he felt the strange sensation of 'his' ponytail bouncing in the wind.

"Please... Mariko..."

Sousuke noticed a middle-aged man down on one knee, tempted to prostrate himself before the object of his desires.

"Mariko... my Mariko..." The man looked up at the much younger woman, who looked cross as she made sure no one was watching the embarrassing scene. "Please don't leave me... we're so close... it's like I'm inside of you, and you're inside of me."

Sousuke stumbled slightly, his thought causing the clumsiness, not some loose pebble or uneven bit of concrete. Fate kept laughing at him. He was inside Kaname. She was inside him.

Heading down the main street in this district, he saw a crowd of people gathered around a large fifty-foot ginkgo tree growing in front of a long-standing family store. Everyone was looking upward. Some were calling out cooing noises, while others were shaking brightly-colored streamers. Some newly arrived spectators pointed up at the top of the tree, which hovered gracefully over one of the ubiquitous power pole that lined Japanese avenues.

"Hideki-" A young boy dressed in elementary school uniform wiped his nose, he eyes wet with tears. "Hideki… please come down… Hideki, you're my best friend…."

Sousuke looked up himself. The Hideki in question was a small white cat with a black ring around one eye. That esteemed pet was perched precariously in the top branches of the tree. A number of noisy dogs ran around the base of the tree, some jumping and putting their paws on its trunk, kicking over opened cans of tuna and catnip-scented toys that had been placed there. They were no doubt the cause of the cat's crazy ascent. People on the sidewalk tried in vain to chase the dogs away, or at least rein them in somehow.

"This is not a weapon," Sousuke said, rummaging through Kaname's school bag. There were a small number of small plastic containers with pull tops. He uncapped one and stealthily tossed it amongst the howling hounds. Before long, as if by magic, the dogs left with little more than a whimper or too. Ninjas once used scents to keep away dogs. The old ways still worked today.

"**Oh no!"** The boy brought a hand to his mouth. Hideki had scampered even further up. The thin branch bent like a bow under his weight. He was mewing in a pitiful fashion.

"What hasn't the fire department sent help," one young woman said to no one in particular. "Someone _must _have called them."

"Emergency responders will _not _come, at least not in big cities." A college student spoke up. "They want to always be available for _human_ emergencies. And, their ladder trucks won't reach that height."

"What we really need is someone in a tree climbing profession," an elderly man said. "My son-in-law worked for the forestry department." When he was asked if he would call that man, he replied "No. It wouldn't do any good. The good for nothing slipped on a bar of soap and broke his arm. Really. Soap. Who does _that?!"_

Sousuke rubbed the bump on Kaname's forehead, feeling a bit foolish then.

"It's not tree climbers you need now," a young woman remarked, moments after a collective gasp of dread rose from the small crowd. Hideki had lost his grasp. He landed on top of the electrical pole, close to deadly transformers and the dangerous hissing lines. "Someone should call the utility company."

"They won't come either," a friend of the college boy said. "They don't want to spook a trapped cat into making a fatal move. They also don't want to put workers at risk from a frantic feline." He mentioned that one man had been suspended for using the extending platform on his truck to rescue a cat from a powerline, since his action violated safety protocols. Members of his community subsequently gathered up money to help the hero through his hardship.

"**Those idiots!"** The old man cursed. A group of youths with less brains than good intentions had taken it upon themselves to save the day. They had seen been watching a YouTube video; but, while watching it, they had not seen the cat change locations.

"_Yehhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_ One young man swung a pain can around and around like a bolo. It was attached to a long rope. Letting the erstwhile weapon fly, he snared the top bough of the tree. "Alright now, pull!" His friends did so, despite cries from the crowd.

The boys had gotten the idea from a video they had seen. A Russian soldier had gone to extreme measures to help a cat down from a tree. After the paint can trick failed, the intrepid Spetsnaz commando used a folding saw to cut down the tree. The tree fell on power lines, tearing some lose, right before it crashed into a building and broke a number of windows. The cat had, fortunately, managed to run along un-electrified wires to safety.

"**No!"** The bough broke loose. It fell, landing atop the transformers, which began to smoke and throw out larger and larger arks of electricity. The cat would be shocked if it didn't escape. The poor creature was too frightened to move. To make matters even worse, one transformer burst into flame.

"Gather nets," Sousuke spoke up, trying to think what a Mithril member should do in this circumstance if a human was in danger. "Blankets. Futons. Pillows. Anything which can catch a falling cat, or at least soften the impact." If he had an A.S., he could reach up and save the furry victim. But, that was neither here or there. Kaname Chidori piloting an M9 or Arbalest? Not likely!

"We don't have too much time before those lightning bolts fry the kittie." A young man made wringing motions with his blemish-free hands.

Sousuke had emotionally involved. So much so, that he forgot his first, second, and third priority: getting to school safely, intact, and early enough to tackle any unforseen circumstances that might be waiting for him. He looked around. "I know what to do!" He walked over to a shop undergoing renovation. He picked up what looked to be a six-foot length of PVC pipe, sealed at one end. "I will need dry ice. As much as anyone can get. That, and potatoes."

A good many people questioned his thinking, but he remained silent. Someone knew a good source of dry ice. Baskin Robbins. That ice cream shop places small pieces of the terribly cold substance on the top of their take-out containers, so that customers' ice cream wouldn't melt before they reached home. A good fortune would have it, there was a '31-Flavors' shop just around the corner.

"Ready the blankets," Sousuke said. He had also asked for a large flimsy plastic bottle filled with water. He added dry ice to the bottle, capped it, and dropped it in the tube. He quickly tamped the largest potato in the bore of the tubing. "Ah… good… this appears to be made of ABS." Acrylonitrile butadiene styrene… another popular plastic piping material…more expensive and less common than PVC, but available in the same sizes and pressure ratings. Unlike PVC, it is used in compressed air systems, as it splits rather than shatters on failure. "It won't be long."

"What are you doing, pretty lady." The boy crying for Hideki looked at Sousuke.

"I am not a pretty lady. I'm a specialist." Sousuke motioned for someone to move the boy away to a safe distance. "No. Forget I said that. I _am_ a pretty… lady." He had to keep telling himself that. He must _be_ Kaname Chidori.

"I know what that is," the elderly man said. "That is a potato cannon!"

"I know about those," an equally old man said, another elderly member of the Japanese military. "The potato cannon can trace its origin to World War II… to some weapon… I can't remember its name… it wasn't Japanese…."

"Holman Projector," Sousuke added, surprising to two vets. "Those were contrived as a shipboard anti-aircraft weapons and were essentially pneumatic mortars, using compressed air or high pressure steam to fire an explosive projectile at enemy aircraft. They had been intended primarily as a stop-gap defensive weapon for British merchant ships, which had been suffering heavy losses from Luftwaffe aircraft flying anti-shipping missions, the low altitude at which such strikes often took place that a weapon of such limited range and velocity could throw up an effective screen of fire over a vessel, even if only to create a distracting or deterrent effect, obliging the enemy to bomb from greater heights which reduced bombing accuracy."

The old men went dead silent for a few moments. Who in hell might expect those words… that many words… to come from the mouth of a blue-haired high school girl?

"Well, they were not very effective at stopping aircraft directly," a third vet said, finally getting his tongue to work again. "But…while direct hits were rare, the bombs fired by the projector displayed an unexpected property: the explosion would leave a large puff of black smoke. Firing a large number in quick succession gave the impression to incoming pilots that the target vessel was armed with something far more deadly than the Holman Projector, deterring or disrupting attacks, or convincing the aircraft's crew an attack at greater range would be prudent."

"Right," one of the elderly men corroborated. "Anything which increased the distance of an attack would cause a commensurate decrease in accuracy."

"The Holman Projector had very little success. One cargo ship's crew shoot down two airplanes. That was it. Two for the entire war. For all ships using the device," Sousuke noted. "It became better known for its other uses. Since it had a wide barrel, the projector could shoot nearly anything that could fit inside it; the most popular makeshift ammunition was potatoes."

"Potatoes," one matronly woman said, looking at the gun and the pile of potatoes. She looked at Sousuke and said: "Tsk… tsk… just what are they teaching young ladies in Home Economics these days."

"All spud guns propel projectiles using pressurized gas in the same manner as a firearm," the one vet remarked. "There are four ways that the guns can do this: By the combustion of a gaseous fuel-air mixture….by the release of compressed air through a valve… by the combustion of a pre-pressurized fuel-air mixture…" He left things hanging and gave Sousuke a glance. He could take things home.

"By the explosion of a dry ice bomb placed in the pipe," Sousuke said. "A dry ice cannon uses the sublimation of solid carbon dioxide to generate the gas pressure to propel a projectile. The oldest examples simply involve dropping pieces of dry ice into a tube closed at one end and sealing the other end by jamming the projectile in. When the pressure of the carbon dioxide from the subliming dry ice builds high enough, the projectile will be blown out of the tube." He carefully aimed the tubing, so his shot would bring about his intended effect.

"This is a more modern version." Sousuke patted the device. It was _not_ a weapon. It would not cause him to disobey his orders. "A dry ice bomb launcher. A plastic bottle containing water with dry ice added and quickly sealed and dropped down a tube, which is closed at one end. A projectile is inserted in after it. The water accelerates the sublimation of the dry ice and the pressure from the carbon dioxide gas produced eventually ruptures the plastic bottle and launches the projectile."

"He'll hit the kittie!" Many in the crowd stood aghast. Who would be so cruel or show such poor judgment as to strike a innocent creature with a speeding spud?!

"But at least it will be off of the pole and we can all go about our business," some lout in a three-piece suit said.

**B-O-O-M-!-!-!-! **

"Kids… do not try this at home…" Sousuke was lecturing the children present, not needing to eye-ball the target any longer. "Adults should follow the same rules as if handling a conventional firearm. Given the frequently improvised materials and construction used in spud guns, it is particularly important for the user to use basic ear and eye protection when operating one."

_R-o-w-r-lllll-llll-lll-ll-llll-lll-ll-l_

The potato had fragmented into countless tiny pieces, impacting on the post just below the cowering cat.. The exploding spud and the echoing sound of the explosion frightened the cat into jumping. With a gasp of hope and expectation, the net-minders and blanket-brigade helped catch the cat and lay it safely into the arms of the boy, who with a happy smile and tearful eyes told Sousuke that his name Momotaro.

"First time I ever saw anything like that," a half-blind man told the tree, thinking it was his younger brother.

"Time?" Sousuke felt his throat and bowels tighten "**Time!"** He looked down at Kaname's wrist watch. _"Shit!" _ He took off running. He would miss the train.

"I hope we got that!" An attractive blonde woman in a sharp business suit directed her crew. She was speaking into a microphone. He crew worked digital recorders, boom microphones, and pole lights. "Just who was that blue-haired goddess….' She continues with her morning news feed.

"Meow," Hideki said.

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Sousuke ran.

Kaname's shoes made a totally different noise than his combat boots would, as he tore down a stretch of sidewalk, dodging fellow pedestrians the way that a football running back tries to dodge defenders.

He ran as if his life depended on it. He leaped over fire hydrants, worker's heads sticking out of manholes, and young children playing with spinning tops on the sidewalk.

Shortcuts weren't short enough. Sliding down rails was exciting; but, it didn't save enough time. Crouching down as he held onto the back of a speeding city bus got him noticed, as groups of people held up their cell phones, internal cameras clicking away.

All was for naught. He arrived at the train platform in time to see his train disappear around the first bend in the track. "This is a problem," he said in a sour tone. "If I wait for the next train, I will arrive at the school too late to do surveillance, or to practice my Kaname-mannerisms." This mission _had_ to succeed. Kaname's school-life and personal reputation depended on it.

"I will need to borrow another bicycle." He had done that before with Kaname, when the two of them were rushing back to school. He had returned that bicycle, bent and broken as it was after he had jumped it off a sharp incline, he and Kaname ending up in a tree. "I will do my best to treat this one better." Sousuke stole the bright blue bicycle…a mamachari… 'Mom's bicycle'… the omnipresent inexpensive bicycle of Tokyo, with multiple gears and a large basket in front.

"Here we go," he said. "Engines to full ahead." He began pumping his legs furiously. The bike shot forth like a bullet from a gun. Hair straight behind him like a horse's tail, he sped along a flat stretch of street, weaving in between slow-moving automobiles. He he came to a steep slope. Picking up speed, he flew down the roadway, shirt fluttering and dancing. Old men and young boys exclaimed 'They're white!' as he passed them by, Kaname's panties visible to all. To the male onlookers, their gaze rivetted on the blue-haired beauty it almost looked like sparkles decorated her wake. Magical Girls were real!

"Pardon me!" Sousuke brushed against a man. He had no time to recognize the man from behind. He had barely missed running over the Jindai janitor, walking along carrying a large plastic bag, his nearest koi fish inside. _ "Sorry doggie!" _He leaped the bike airborne, shooting over a white Japanese Spitz. Frightened, the small dog peed on its owner's foot. _**"Coming through!"**_ He veered away from a bearded man with a large camera, the lens worth far more than the janitor's expensive koi and custom chainsaw combined.

"Wow." The cameraman… a famous artist working for the biggest city paper and numerous photo-blogs… was struck by inspiration_. "She's beautiful."_ The camera whirred as pictures came in quick succession. **"Perfect!"** The photos would grace his printed and posted work. The last shot held the image of Kaname's body and a sleek black-and-white patrol care.

To onlookers with a fertile imagination, the curvy and sexy sports car looked like a deadly shark cruising the city street. All it lacked was a fin. The same could be said for the driver of that automobile. Eyes half-crazed, she scanned the environs intently, hunting for the smallest of blood trails. She would stomp down on that gas pedal if she saw the slightest of offenses. _"What-"_ She had seen something out of the corner of her eye. The car began move like a skier on a slalom slope, curving this way and that along colorful gates. **"There!"**

The car, one of the three Nissan 370 Nismo received by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, rear-wheel drive and powered by a sweet 370 horsepower engine, suddenly sped up excessively. Car number 465 was on the move! Top lights went on. A siren wailed.

The Metropolitan Police has a staff of over forty-thousand officers manning one hundred and two stations in the prefecture. It was Sousuke's luck that the driver of that car was the one person in that forty-thousand that he had no desire to meet again in _any_ circumstance. It was Yoko Wakana, the living embodiment of Miyuki Kobayakawa from 'You're Under Arrest!'

"Damn." Sousuke swore repeatedly under his breath. Once again, he mistakenly believed that he was being chased down because he had stolen a bicycle. The last time, he had actually been accosted because he and Kaname were riding _double_ on a bicycle. Accosted by that very same Yoko Wakana: the same woman he had fought an epic skirmish with, him in the Bonta-kun mini A.S. suit.

"**It's her!"** Wakana practically drooled. Her partner held fiercely onto the car's 'Jesus strap,' fearing for her life. If she had been in danger before, in the usual dumpy cars they were given to drive, she might find a quick way to the next life in this speedster. "That blue hair!" To Wakana, blue hair was like a red cape to a bull. She recognized Kaname, of course. She wasn't thinking about the time she wrecked a car chasing two teenagers. She was reminiscing about one of the most exciting moments in her violently abnormal life: that very same contest against Bonta-kun. It had turned out to be a draw, and she hated draws. Capturing the Pony Man pervert had gained her a car again; but, she had been left with a sour taste in her mouth.

"Maybe we should-" Rebecca Lee, sometimes called Revy by the other patrol members who watched 'Black Lagoon,' was unaware of Wakana's history with the girl on the bicycle. She was much more interested in the safety of pedestrians, people milling around on the sidewalks, and the shop owners setting up their tables, counters, and yatai carts.

"**Shut up!"** Wakana's eyes were blood-shot. Her breathing came quickly. "Grab the stun gun, Two Hands! Just pretend you're back in Roanapur!" She was a big-time fan of that anime, too. She felt a kinship with the troubled, confident, loud, competitive, sarcastic, battle hungry, rude, deadly, extremely ill-tempered and ruthless anime Revy, who had been raised by an abusive, alcoholic father, just like Wakana. One day, after fleeing from one of her father's rampages, Revy was arrested, beaten, and raped by a corrupt police officer. Upon being returned home following this ordeal, she shot and killed her father after he callously asked her for another drink, using a pillow as a make-shift silencer. Wakana had dreamed of doing the same, even though she had never been sexually abused.

"But-" Rebecca did not like 'Black Lagoon.' She didn't like being called by the name of a sadistic, incredibly destructive, volatile, gun-crazed psychopath. She didn't realize that the pistol she carried, a Beretta 92F, was an unmodified version of Revy's favorite gun. "The civilians-" She did, of course, realize that she was riding shotgun with a sadistic, incredibly destructive, gun-crazed psychopath.

"**Fuck'em!"** Spittle dripped from Wakan's mouth. That blue-haired girl… she would know how to find Bonta-Kun. She had beaten up every theme-park mascot she had come across ever since that fateful day, but not a single one put up a good fight. _"Fumo fumo!"_ The car picked up speed yet again.

"If you want me to shoot," Rebecca said, desperate to slow her partner down. "Slow the hell down!" She rolled down her window, and readied her 12-guage shotgun. The gun contained a wireless long-range electric shock projectile produced by Taser International. The XREP… officially named the eXtended Range Electro-Muscular Projectile… contains a small high-voltage battery. "Or I might hit an innocent"

"Who gives a shit!" Wakan pushed the accelerator to the floor. She put a handheld device to her mouth, after turning the outside speaker on. "Pull over. You… with the blue hair… pull over or its jail for you." She paid no heed to the people running for their lives, or leaping through the air, landing in vegetable stalls and on steaming grills.

"I cannot be detained," Sousuke said, pumping Kaname's legs to their physical limit. "I cannot be delayed!" Japanese high schools put up with a lot of different deviant and desultory behavior that their Western counterparts would clamp down on with unrelenting severity. But, there was one thing they would _not_ tolerate: truancy, even to the slightest degree. "I will not apologize." He didn't mean saying he regretted his actions to the authorities. He was referring to the danger he was about to put a large number of people in. He jumped a curb and slid hard to the right, choosing to ride a bit out of his way, down a pathway lined on both sides by gastro-pubs, food stalls, fish vendors, and shops of various types.

"**No!"** Rebecca called out, nearly fumbling her gun. "You can't go down _there!"_

"Don't worry," Wakana called out in a shrill voice, snot streaming down from her nostrils and flecks of foam spraying from her tongue. "We'll fit… barely…" The car would fit down the alleyway with a few feet to spare on either side… if the shop owners hadn't put tables and chairs outside, and the vendors had decided to leave their stands, carts, and shelves at home. "_They _won't, though…." Colorful store flags, old women with walkers, beckoning cats, a long string of unlit lanterns, folding chairs and wooden crates, and a middle-aged scout master from the Scout Association of Japan went airborne. A milli-second later, the Scout master was joined by his scouts.

"On my honor, I promise I will do my best to do my duty to Buddha and the country," one young man cried out, wishing he had gone to school instead of this field trip.

"If I live today," another boy said, his merit badges flying off of his sash. "I will start obeying the Scout Laws…help other people at all times…and to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."

"I will be faithful!" A third boy said.

"I will be friendly," a fourth scout promised.

"I will be courteous," a fifth remarked.

"I will be kind," the sixth said, adding to the chorus.

"I will be cheerful…thrifty…courageous… thankful." Numbers seven, eight, nine, and ten followed suit.

"_Suck my ass!"_ The eleventh and final boy shouted.

"I do not need this!" Sousuke seethed. The handle bar was growing loose, shaking up a storm. If felt as if the chain wanted to jump off of the sprocket, and one pedal had already flown off to its freedom. As luck would have it, Sousuke spied another bicycle, standing unoccupied and unguarded against the side of a stall selling sweet fruit crepes, gyoza, and korokke. He let the bike he was on continue on its way, as he jumped off and commandeered the other. In for a dime, or in for a dollar. What would that be in Japanese currency? He didn't have time to think on that!

"Shoot her!" Wakana's voice sounded a lot like Robert Muldoon in 'Jurassic Park' at that moment, as if she were ordering a guard to shoot a velociraptor. _"Shooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-ot_ herrrr-rrr-rr-r." She grabbed the shotgun from Rebecca. The car plowed through a trio of girls eating takoyaki. Four businessmen on the way to work ended up covered in okonomiyaki, yakitori, and taiyaki when a number of selling stands fragmented in the most explosive manner imaginable. Potted plants leaped out of their pots, shooting upward like rockets one after another, depleting a long stretch of road of its greenery. "Here… take the wheel…."

"I-" Rebecca was too shocked to move at first. She watched in horror as one retiree after another jumped back from their bench, saki and spirits spilling and sloshing as the patrol car careened down the area between bars and restaurants. "I think I need to transfer!" She grabbed hold of the wheel. A bewildering selection of steaming hot vats, aromatic fried bites, and local delicacies jumped skyward as they passed. Large satisfying seafood platters would not be satisfying anyone. The constantly chattering crowd went silent, before bursting out into a symphony of shouts and screams.

"Now I have you!" Wakana readied her shot. Aiming, she began to squeeze the trigger. "Keep the car straight!"

Sousuke had no idea what the pair of policewomen were doing. He saw a chance and he took it. A cargo truck was parked in front of a novelty store. A pair of workers were preparing to carry cargo into the shop. "I hope this will work!" It did. Reaching out his hand he grabbed hold of a lever on the rear of the vehicle. He used his grasp and the bike's momentum to slingshot off of the sidewalk and into the street, heading straight for an alley wide enough for one or two people at most.

"My apologies…" He called out when he struck a man in a ceremonial black robe, a scarlet kaku obi around his waist. "Sorry, sir…." He bounced off another man in similar garb. "Oooops… my bad… send me the bill…." He struck three additional men in succession. Then, without time even to blink, he bowled over a good dozen more. He cursed when he saw their exposed arms. Those markings were tattoos. Tattoos and garb like that meant yakusa.

He was mistaken. The colorful markings were not on skin, but instead deccorated the fabric sleeves of ceremonial clothing worn underneath the robes. The men were not yakusa; they were mourners leaving a wake, about to make their was over to a funeral ceremony. The ashes they were carrying were no longer in the ceremonial urn.

"Uhhh-" Sousuke had been ducking down further, hoping to dodge any bullets fired. None came. Something more deadly to a teenage boy showed up unexpectedly. "Those are-" Prostitutes were standing outside of their brothel, and behind the windows of an adjacent sex club, two of the few remaining establishments that once made up a once large soaplands region. He came perilously close to losing control of the bike when he saw one in a blue wig. She looked like that girl in Hong Kong! Foolishly, he closed his eyes as he kept pedaling. Luckily he didn't hit anything or anyone. Hearing the jangly sounds of a pachinko parlor, he opened his eyes again.

Buildings rushed past. Some were scrap-and-build apartments with clean concrete and polished railings. Others were wooden barracks-like buildings, currently spared the fate of the building that had long since been torn down. Graffiti and street art adorned one side of the alley, while the other was decorated by banners, colorful posters, and other signs of gentrification.

Back at the truck, the lever fell all the way down, just as Sousuke had made it a few bike-lengths along his escape route.. The automatic lift gate lifted. A large number of plush Bonta-kun dolls spilled out, piling up into a great pyramid, and tumbling out onto street and sidewalk. The rain of dolls distracted Wakan at just the wrong moment. Braking to a stop, she inadvertently pulled the trigger. The projectile flew.

The burly and hairy-armed truck driver, sporting a jaunty hat, leaned out of his window when he heard the gate open. Biting down on his third Choco Banana of the morning, he did not see the XREP before it struck him in the neck. Fins open, the cylindrical projectile had released four electrodes, which now spread an electrical charge across the shoulder of the unfortunate man.

"Uuuu-uu-uu-u-" The driver spasmed. He took his foot off the brake. He had not applied the parking brake. That was even more unfortunate, since the tuck was pointed down a slope, with the road T-shaped at the bottom. The truck descended the hill, slowly at first, soon too fast for the workers to reach the cab. Faster and faster it sped, until it crashed into a china shop at the bottom. The name on the side of the truck was 'The Bull Moving Company.'

"That's not coming out of my paycheck!" Rebeccas shouted.

"Don't get your panties in a knot," Wakana said. "I'll write the report. The man was drunk. He stepped on the accelerator instead of the brake. It happens all of the time." At least it did, in _her _logbooks. "They're not putting me behind a damned desk again!"

"We're saved-" Rebecca coughed. "I mean... whatever shall we do… the perpetrator escaped." The car couldn't fit down that path, even if it were up on two wheels. "I guess it's time to go back to base."

"We'll just go this way," Wakana laughed insanely. She nodded towards a one-way street. One way the other way. "This street will bring us out ahead of that girl." She veered hard left, her hands back on the wheel. "Reload." She swore when Rebecca fumbled a handful of XREP rounds on purpose. The car shot forth from the street like a black-and-white artillery round, sliding sideways before spinning out as the obsessed driver cranked on the wheel. Coming to a stop, she knocked a bento-seller's stand on its side. A man grilling yaki tomorokoshi and shioyaki screamed as his apron burst into flame. A young girl who had collected change for years began crying when her money-purse flew from her hand, bouncing twice before it disappeared down a sewer grate.

"_Mrphllbrphllsmrphylll-"_ Rebecca couldn't speak properly until she spat out a mouthful of bebi kasutera. The sponge cake had been rammed down her throat by impact, almost choking her. "The girl… (cough)… the girl is nowhere… (cough cough cough)… to be seen." That ought to do it.

"I see her," Wakana said, contradicting the other officer. She pointed down a long set of terraced stairs, leading from one platform to another. "She will not get away." She frowned when a businessman, his fancy shirt stained with coffee and bean paste, leaned inside the passenger side window to complain. She didn't notice that his tie got stuck on the seatbelt guide. She wouldn't have acted any differently if she had. "Scram, asshole." She gunned the car again.

"Wait…" The frantic man shouted as he was pulled forward. "Wait… wait… waitwaitwaitwaitwait…." Twisting this way and that, his belt gave way and his expensive European slack flew off. His underwear with its cute red hearts threatened to follow suit. This was shaping up to be a bad day for the influential CEO.

Car and man flew along, down the endless steps with a continuous bumping motion punctuated by short airborne leaps. "That's dangerous," Wakana said ironically, when the Nismo had four wheels on the road again. She was watching Sousuke's bicycle ballet, as he maneuvered the leaping bicycle in remarkable fashion. Rebecca was staring as the frayed remnant of a silk tie. "I really like that girl," Wakana said. "I wonder if she might consider a career in police enforcement."

Sousuke had chosen a very dangerous gambit. He had ridden his bicycle off of the road, through a gate, and onto the set of train tracks that he would have travelled along had he made his train. He wasn't too far from his station. The thing that he… and obviously Wakana… didn't know, was that this was the northbound track, not the southbound. He didn't have a good amount of time to make it off of the track.

"Wait! You can't shoot her." Rebecca froze. Wakana held her pistol out of the car window. "You'll kill her."

"I'm not aiming for _her,"_ Wakana replied. "I'll just shoot the bike tire." That was a near impossible shot, with a moving car, a moving bike, and the sun in the driver's eyes. She squinted, the bright light making her see fuzzy white images. "She'll probably survive the fall…."

"Th-th-th-th-" Rebecca was too frightened to get her words out. ** "The train!" **Sure enough, the northbound train was on schedule. The Japanese people did not allow truancy for buses, trains, and planes either. She thought about unbuckling her seat belt and exiting the car. There would be just enough time. She didn't have that chance. The car slid to a stop, and moments later began moving in reverse.

"This is better than Russian roulette," Wakana said, distracted by a new way to put her life on the line. "I can always find that Bonta-kun some other day."

Sousuke had left the tracks. He was running on two feet now, the bicycle standing against a telephone pole, right next to a large basket of umbrellas. He surmised that the loud noise her heard, a tortured scraping and screeching sound, came from a police car flipped on its side, pushed along by a train coming to an emergency stop.

"Gotta run," Sousuke said, looking down at Kaname's watch. A few minutes later he finished his jaunt just moments before the school gates closed with a resounding thud.

Before entering the school building, he took a moment to stand at the corner of a brick wall, surveying the actions of some strangers. A large panel truck had the name of a photography studio emblazoned on its sides. A young man of medium height, not much older than himself by the look of it, fussed with his hair and apparel while directing a large work crew: big burly men and lithe athletic women carrying camera boxes, light stands, screens and back drops, in addition to zipped up duffle bags.

"I do not like new things," Sousuke mused, taking another minute to peruse the building perimeter. The movement out front was not designed to draw the attention away from some nefarious or covert operation out back, was it? "But… I have seen the school yearbooks…."

Satisfied… at least, not overly worried yet… Sousuke rushed to catch up with last students entering Jindai High.

"Kaname… there you are… hurry!" Kyouko was waiting for her just inside the building.

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_Again, this chapter was written together with the next, but split in two for 'easy' reading. As if anything about this story has been easy._


	6. Chapter 6

**JINDAI MUNICIPAL HIGH SCHOOL**

Kaname, what happened to your head?"

Kyouko looked concerned, both for her friend's outward condition, and because of an urgent matter at hand.

"Soap meet floor," Sousuke made a kicking motion like he was shooting a goal in soccer. "Head meet wall." He slapped his hands together, making a loud noise. He noticed the frantic look in his friend's eyes. "Why are you so-" He didn't have a chance to finish. The girl had hurried over to her locker.

Sousuke went first to his own locker, before realizing his mistake. Kyouko wasn't making things easy, telling her to put her stuff away and get her slippers on quickly.

_Slippers? _

Yes, Jindai had recently been coerced into adopting some traditions that were still used by numerous other high schools. After placing his things and his shoes in Kaname's locker, Sousuke headed for the blue sneakers, slid to a halt, an re-directed his stride towards the pink ones. He barely had time to make his second slipper comfortable before someone else showed up looking for him. It was a figure that Sousuke did not have the most cheerful of histories with.

"There you are… there you are…." The Vice Principal was running towards the two girls, one of his own slippers coming apart unnoticed. "There you are… _finally._ I was afraid you weren't going to make it on time." His glasses were fogged up. He dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief.

Sousuke fought the urge to strike the older man. H reminded him of the Vice-Principal in 'Great Teacher Onizuka'. That had him thinking about taking the man in a German Suplex, the way that Eikichi had, hands clasped around the Vice Principal's waist, lifting him up over his head, bridging his own body before dumping the nervous man him on his head. No. That method was not the best. He himself had been the victim of Kaname's Japanese Ocean Cyclone Suplex, once made famous by Joshi legend Manami Toyota. This body was obviously suitable for _that_ move.

Sousuke successfully silenced the voice in his head that sought payback, as seductive as that voice might be.

"You didn't forget, _did_ you?" The Vice Principal grew even more agitated. "You couldn't have forgot something so important. You just _couldn't_ have!" His one foot moved forward and back, almost as if her were a horse getting ready to run or kick-out.

To Sousuke, the movements reminded him of a deer, not a horse. That brought to mind a a chapter in 'Ninchijou', specifically one about a battle between a deer and the Principal, while a watching Yuuko freaked out over it.

"Forget, Sir?" Sousuke still had little love for the man, having been close to expulsion after blowing up the very entryway lockers he had just left, only to be saved by the Principal. "Was there something I was supposed to remember?" The way he said it made it sound like she was pulling the balding middle-aged man's chain.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Miss Chidori." The VP gasped and put a hand to his mouth. "Unless that bump on your head…."

"Ka-_naaa-aa-a_-maaa-aa-ay," Kyouko said, putting her camera down after the flash nearly blinded the frantic man. "Today's the weekly assembly. You're supposed to give the inspirational speech."

*doink*

That was the sound of Kaname's school bag hitting the floor, after falling from Sousuke's suddenly slack grasp.

He suddenly felt unbelievably uncomfortable, fighting the urge to knock people out and run into seclusion. What was the topic he was supposed to talk about? Kaname hadn't mentioned anything to him; but, that was to be expected, she _had_ been rather preoccupied. He had no Full Monty Virus cannisters. He had no explosives to blow up the school. Should he run and pull a fire alarm? Why did he feel like a fox, one foot caught in a snare, as a man with a bushy beard and a hunting knife approached with a big gnarly grin?

"Career day is coming up," the Vice Principal nearly shouted. "The students need to take their future seriously. If they don't do that soon, it may be too late!" He began hyperventilating.

"That is correct." The speaker was Atsunobu Hayashimizu. "And I do apologize again. I would have given the talk, had I not been too busy with other school duties." He smiled his winning smile. "But I think our prior discussion should have given you sufficient ammunition." Why did the blue-haired girl twitch when he said that last word? "Seeing that life after high school truly _is_ a battlefield." It almost looked like Kaname's eyes were glowing coal red.

"**Sir! Yes sir!"** Sousuke stopped just short of saluting. He had to try and settle down. He was Kaname Chidori today, not Sousuke Sagara. "I mean… I will gladly do whatever you say your Excellency…." Oops. That slipped out. Old habits die hard. He exchanged brief pleasantries with Ren Mikihara, Atsunobu's secretary, before the VP took him by the hand and pulled him towards the auditorium.

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**WEEKLY MORNING ASSEMBLY**

A few minutes later, Sousuke found himself standing at a well-worn lectern, located on top of a sturdy and well-seasoned podium. Looking straight out, he could see a veritable sea of students. His mind threatened to go blank. What could he possibly speak about? He was suddenly blind to his surroundings. He took no note of the study gray walls, festooned with fancy filigree and draped with dark colossal curtains. Muted light shone down through numerous windows. Dust motes danced in that light.

He waited while the Vice Principal said a few introductory words, and the Principal made a short but important announcement. "I yield the floor to you, Miss Chidori," the Principal said.

Many of the faces in the crowd were familiar to Sousuke.

Some of the faces appeared attentive and eager, while others seemed distant and bored. A number of students spoke among themselves or goofed around. "I… Kanmame Chidori… known to you as a class representative and Vice President of the student council… have been ordered to give this very appropriate speech." Sousuke used his Systema training to regulate his breathing. 'The System' could help a user thrive in _any _situation. He would apply his knowledge of that discipline now. "Some of you may be in this school because your parents make you come… because you have no means to support yourself… because it is expected by the government. Whatever your reason to attend, be certain that the door at the front of this building opens up upon a battlefield." He paused, before his voice rang out louder than before.

"**The battlefield of life!"**

"She sounds an awful lot like Sagara!" Someone in the middle of the crowd called out.

"Hey… yeh… where _is_ Sousuke?" Another someone said, before adding "I didn't hear anything explode this morning."

"If we have to be here, why isn't _he _here?!" A lot of students echoed that sentiment.

Sousuke fought the urge to say 'I am right here'. Instead, he said "I understand that Mister Sagara suffered a severe medical misadventure. The details of that occurrence are not available to this school." He was bitten by the inspiration bug. "On that note… while you are all gathered here in one place… I should mention that I might seem strange to some of you throughout the day. The reason is this. I slipped in the shower and struck my head. I suffered an out of body experience, so I might very well be suffering from traumatic brain injury. Despite that, I decided to come here and give this speech, instead of seeking immediate medical assistance."

"She's so diligent and dependable," Tsubaki said, glasses on. He sighed.

"**No!"** Mizuki said sharply. "She's not so great." She sidled closer to the karate boy, who quickly doubled the distance between them

A number of people called out encouragement. Others jokingly asked if they could go the bathroom. Those who were disrespectful had Sousuke's temper getting hot. He needed to shut those people up and have them respect their class rep. But, where should he draw his words from? Movies? Famous battlefield speeches? Motivational seminars on Merida Island? Reality TV?

"I know you all," Sousuke began, deciding to wing it. He would treat this as a combat situation, and he would roll with the punches as best he could. "I know who you are and what you must do." He stood up taller. His voice sounded strong and authoritative. "Just as you know me, and know what I will do. We are not here to liberate our captive minds today, but to conquer our destiny for tomorrow!" He began to walk the stage, one hand behind his back, as if tutoring a batch of new recruits on the finer points of knife fighting or demolition work.

"We are not here just to show our own flags, but to honor the sacrifices of men and women who gathered facts and knowledge across the ages. There are some of you alive here today, who may not survive the trials that are coming. Those who do not wish to go on that journey to the future, we will _not_ send!" There was steel in his voice. Even the rowdies in the audience had settled down. "As for the others… I expect _you_ to rock the world!" He stood legs wide apart, both hands behind his back now. He asked someone to find him a pointer. "Wipe out your competition, if they choose to stand against you. But… remember this always… be ferocious in battle… but magnanimous in victory."

"Here you go, Kaname."

"Thank you, your Ex-… I mean, Atsunobu." Sousuke had the pointer in hand. He swept it about to emphasize his next words. "Japan is steeped in history. It is the site of Mount Fuji, the Imperial Palace, and Himeji Castle. It is the birthplace of Bushido. Tread lightly in your homeland. You will see things that no man can pay to see. You will have to go a far distance to find a more decent, generous, and upright people than the Japanese. You will be embarrassed by the hospitality of your fellow countrymen. Do not treat those others how you might treat refugees. This is their country, too!"

"Well said." The Vice Principal wiped away a tear.

"If there are casualties in our war, remember when they woke up and got dressed in the morning they did not plan to die. Allow them dignity in their demise. Bury them properly and mark their graves." If Sousuke himself were saying things, everyone would be calling for him to leave the stage. But with those words coming from Kaname's mouth, everyone sat transfixed. "It is my intention here today to help you all make it out into life alive, but there may be people among you who will not see things through to the end of the campaign. We will put the fallen in sleeping bags and send them back to their families. There is no time for sorrow!"

"We are indeed seeing things that no one else is lucky enough to see." The Principal smiled proudly at the speaker.

"Let me emphasize this!" Sousuke brought the pointer down hard on the lectern. "Our competitors should be in no doubt that we are their nemesis and that we will bring about their rightful destruction. There may be many people out there who have stains on their souls, who are stoking the fires of Hell. Yes. Beware. There are those who would set traps for us and consign us to a fiery demise in their place. Those men will be destroyed by our coalition for the things that they have done!" He paused, reflecting on his own experiences. He could draw some parallels here. "It's a big step to take another's life… I mean, another's job." No one seemed to notice that slip. "It is not to be done lightly. I know of men who have taken jobs needlessly in other cities. I can assure you that they live with the Mark of Cain upon them. But, if some such as that surrender to you, remember that they have a right to go home to their family. And I say this loud and clear:

**THE ONES WHO WISH TO FIGHT, WE AIM TO PLEASE!**

Members of the audience took to their feet.

Some students shouted out school slogans, quieting down when Sousuke raised his arms, and then slowly lowered them.

"But, we can all be our own worst enemy," the blue-haired speaker said. "If you harm this school or its history by over-enthusiasm in trampling others or by acts of cowardice, know that it is your family that will suffer. You will be shunned, if your conduct is not of the highest, for your deeds will follow you down through history. Promise me that you will not bring shame on neither our uniform nor our school!"

_**WE PROMISE!**_

The auditorium had never heard that noise level before. Those who were not shouting or moved to flights of emotion held their cell phones up, recording this slice of history.

"As for us," Sousuke said feeling free and easy. "Let us find everyone a future, and let us all leave Jindai Municipal High School a better place for us having been here. Our businesses are out there!" He pointed out beyond the building walls.

Everyone turned to look in that direction, mesmerized, as if they could see a rainbow or some magical expanse.

"I hear you all shouting with enthusiasm. But, things will not come easy." Sousuke could have stopped, but he was on a roll. He would hammer his points again and again, the way that Mao had hammered things into Kurz and him at Mithril's secret training camp in the forests of Berutarube.

He borrowed from 'The Great Dictator': "To those who can hear me I say: do not hate your teachers out of despair! The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of youth, the bitterness of those who fear the weight of human progress. The power you feel has been taken from you will some day shock you with its abundance. But. Fellow students. Don't give yourselves to brutes masquerading as instructors. Men who despise you and enslave you! Who regiment your lives and tell you what to do, what to think, what to feel! Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder! Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men! Machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate. Only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural!"

"We will have no teachers like _that_ here!" The Vice Principal shook his fist. "We will protect the students!"

"We will stand up for ourselves!" That was Shinji, about the last person who would normally stand up for himself.

"I am Kaname Chidori. And I see a whole army of my schoolmates, here in defiance of the tyranny of life." Sousuke was now channeling William Wallace in 'Braveheart'. "You've come to fight as free men and women... and free men and women you are. What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight? Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willing to trade_ all_ the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take…." He let the crowd finish:

**OUR FREEEDOMMM!**

A camera flashed again and again. Kyouko was caught up in the frenzy, too. She was too entranced to notice that Ono-D had moved to stand next to her, caught up in her enthusiasm the way a cat is caught up with a piece or yarn or a mouse on a string.

"I'll fight for you, Kaname!" Tsubaki's eyes were figuratively shaped like hearts. Mizuki's eyes were shooting daggers.

"Jindai," Sousuke continued. He had switched to 'Independence Day.' "That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it's fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom."

In this story line, that date was a significant day not only for the U.S. but also Japan. On the surface, the real Japan might seem like a nice, free, capitalist country where people can start businesses, have their individual rights protected, and enjoy tax rates are relatively low for a first world country. But, in reality, it is actually an extremely statist, top down society, where infringements to individual rights are done covertly and on a systematic basis. Some might even say that the nation held a near-Soviet control over its economy. The corporate world is intimately involved with the government. Large corporations are organized in keiretsu, stopping shareholders from being able to have much of a say in running the business. Those keiretsu answer directly to the Ministry of Finance. In Sousuke's timeline, a ragtag group of investors had fought for and had won freedom for the people.

"Yes, we will be fighting for our freedom. Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution... but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as a Japanese holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: 'We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate… our Financial Independence Day!' A speech used as a rally cry against invading aliens was perfect for the moment.

Wolf whistles filled the air, an uncommon event in normally reserved Tokyo schools. Someone yelled out 'Kaname Chidori, have my baby.' Since that overzealous man was the Vice Principal, he was dragged out of the room by the ear, tugged along harshly by the Principal.

"I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me." Another famous movie was fair game. "A day may come when the courage of students fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of high school comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand, Students of Jindai High!" Sousuke did not stop there, either. He took words from another favorite film. "No retreat, no surrender. That is our school law. And by that law, we will stand and fight... and die. A new age has begun: an age of freedom! And all will know that three hundred students gave their last breath to defend it!" Sousuke spoke sonorously, switching movies again. "And Career Day shall ne'er go by from this day until the ending of the world but we in it shall be remember'd. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother, Be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition, and gentlemen in Japan now abed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whilst any speaks, that fought with us tomorrow upon Career Day!" After 'The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King', '300', and 'Henry V', could there possibly be anything else? Naturally. It was Sousuke, after all. Although he knew even less about American Football than he did rugby, he chose words from 'On Any Given Sunday':

"I don't know what to say, really. Less than a year to the biggest battle of our professional lives. All comes down to today, and either, we fight as a team, or we're gonna crumble. Inch by inch, play by play. Until we're finished. We're in hell right now, gentlemen and ladies. Believe me. And, we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb outta hell... one inch at a time." Sousuke felt his own morale soaring. At that given moment, he truly felt as if he were a part of that school. "Now I can't make you do it. You've got to look at the guy next to you, look into his eyes. Now I think ya going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. You're gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team, because he knows when it comes down to it, you're gonna do the same for him. That's a team, gentlemen and ladies, and either we fight, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That's high school guys, that's all it is. Now, what are you gonna do?"

Feet stomped. A spectator might wonder where the resulting vibrations might registerJapanese earthquake measurements on the Japan Meteorological Agency Seismic Intensity Scale. But the students still had a shred of sanity left.

But, not for long.

"No matter how enthusiastic you become today, one fact remains true." Sousuke spoke in a hushed voice. "Life… life is tough. It's tough to work so hard, but in the end get so little. Yes, it only makes sense… if your effort is high, you expect your reward to be high, too. What do you do, when it is not?"

The crowd had grown silent.

"It's tough, when you do everything right, but the results all seem so wrong." Sousuke felt his throat thicken. That seemed to be the story of his life, at least from his point of view. "What will you decide to do? Give up? Throw in the towel? Or… will you fight back, even if the odds seemed stacked unfairly against you?" Excited, he had bitten his lip. Blood dripped in small crimson droplets onto the stage. "Remember this above all. If you give up, you will never make it. You will never find out just how great you can be. You may have to suffer a little… or maybe even a great deal. But if you are persistent… if you have a burning desire to succeed… if you are willing to do whatever is necessary to win, you will come away victorious. If… you… are… ready… to… fight." He paused for effect, and then asked: "What are you going to do?"

We will fight!

"I said," Sousuke said. "What are you going to do?"

_We will fight!_

"And, then what will you do?" Sousuke spoke again.

**WE WILL FIGHT!**

"After that, what will you choose to do?" Sousuke's words added fuel to the fire.

_**WE WILL FIGHT!**_

"And if the world knocks you down and Death is staring you in the face-" Sousuke judged them all to be ready.

_**WE**... __**WILL** … __**FIGHT** … __**FIGHT**_… _**FIGHT**_… _**FIGHT**_…_** FIGHT**_… _**FIGHT**_….

The chanting would have continued until everyone in the room ran out of breath and collapsed to the floor. However, Atsunobu stepped up to the front of the stage, waved his hand, and asked for everyone to stop. They immediately did so. He thanked everyone for coming, and told them how much time they all still had before their first class of the day.

Not everyone's enthusiasm had been doused. The rugby club, led by their leader Gouda Yuu, surrounded their former manager, showing her the same level of adoration that they showed their instructor, Sousuke Sagara. Eyes ablaze, they looked like demons, like a heard of wild beasts that were ready to stampeded and lay all to waste. They immediately dispersed, however, when a particular and somewhat peculiar man walked over.

"Miss Chidori, that was quite the inspiring speech." It was Mr. Ciocio, the school Guidance Counselor. "I would like for you to stop by my office later today. We will need some voice overs for the film we will put together. That speech will prove helpful to students for many years to come."

"Uhhh-" Reality landed on Sousuke like a ton of MREs. He had planned to keep a very low profile in school today.

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_This section contained numerous movie quotes; some words from works by __Josiah Ruff on __; and a large part of a famous Iraqi war speech by__ Colonel Tim Collins, given to the 1st Battalion of the Royal Irish Regiment in Iraq in 2003. _

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**SCHOOL HIDEAWAY**

_Students may arrive at school anytime from 7:30 AM to 8:30 AM._

_Weekly assembly lasts from 7:30 AM to 8:20 AM_

_There is a ten-minute prep from 8:20 to 8:30 AM_

_Homeroom lasts from 8:30 AM to 8:40 AM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 8:40 AM to 8:50 AM._

_Mathematics II lasts from 8:50 AM to 9:40 AM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 9:40 AM to 9:50 AM._

_English lasts from 9:50 AM to 10:40 AM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 10:40 AM to 10:50 AM._

_Physical Education lasts from 10:50 AM to 11:40 AM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 11:40 AM to 11:50 AM._

_Japanese History lasts from 11:50 AM to 12:40 PM._

_Lunchtime lasts from 12:40 PM to 1:15 PM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 1:15 PM to 1:25 PM._

_Home Economics lasts from 1:25 PM to 2:15 PM._

_There is a ten-minute prep for the next class from 2:15 PM to 2:25 PM._

_Biology lasts from 2:25 PM to 3:15 PM._

_Students clean up the school from 3:15 PM to 3:30 PM._

_There is one final Homeroom class from 3:30 PM to 3:45 PM._

_At this point, students are free to leave and go home, or stick around and do club activities._

_During summer, the school closes at 6:00 PM. During winter, the school closes at 4:00 PM._

* * *

Sousuke looked over the generic school schedule. The school day had started earlier than usual, because of the assembly. After that speech, he had a short amount of time before Math class. He secretly retreated to a favorite hiding place… one accessible by climbing a series of old disconnected air ducts. He took out his telephone. He looked down at the ring. It was Blue, shading towards Green on one edge.

He dialled a number.

Sousuke watched as a cockroach walked along a dust covered beam, high up in the ductwork of Jindai High.

"You are lucky I am not working today," he told the oblivious bug. He was an exterminator of sorts. An exterminator of evil men. "I am unlucky, but at least I am not you. Or-" A thought struck him.

The young operative had difficulty remembering literature. Unless it was military literature. But one literary work he had been compelled to read at school popped back into his mind: 'The Metamorphosis', a novella written by Franz Kafka. One of that luminary's best-known works, 'The Metamorphosis' tells the story of salesman Gregor Samsa who wakes one morning to find himself inexplicably transformed into a huge insect and subsequently struggling to adjust to this new condition.

"Perhaps you are the lucky one," Sousuke said sadly. "You, at least remain the way you were born." He sighed. This was not the first time in his life that he wondered why he had been born. He had always been different. Now, he was even more so.

For the third time he called the Neurological hospital laboratory number. This time, he did not get a busy signal on a jury-rigged answering machine.

The lab telephone obviously had caller ID.

"Sergeant Sagara, how are you making out?" That was Dr. Hfuhruhurr , taking a momentary break, but still near critical machinery, should his expertise be needed again.

"I survive," Sousuke said slowly and sadly. That was the most he could say at the moment. But, personal feelings aside, he knew better than to describe his latest peccadillos in detail. No, it would be best to stay silent on such matters. "How is Kaname?"

"She is surviving, too-" He snorted. "Barely."

"**Doctor!"** All it took was a thought that Kaname might be in peril to spark an end to Sousuke's somber psychological soliloquy. _"What happened!_ Did equipment malfunction again? Was there an enemy attack? Has-" He was interrupted.

"It was a jest," Dr. Hfuhruhurr "You know… a sly sarcasm." He regretted making the young man upset. The teen had enough on his plate. "The truth is, the ordeal is weighing heavy on her heart, body, and mind. It's tragic to watch. But… well… there have been added…ahem… assignations."

"Ass-uhh-?" The English word was unfamiliar to Sousuke.

"Any kind of clandestine meeting can be called an assignation," Dr. Hfuhruhurr replied. "But it most often describes a romantic tryst. The word assignation meant "appointment by authority'. "

"Authority?" Sousuke still hadn't gotten the gist of the situation.

"New experts have been added to the group," Dr. Hfuhruhurr explained. "They have been assigned by the Mithril Science Division. It's almost amusing. Almost. Many seem more interested in winning a date than they are in solving The Big Problem."

"How-" Sousuke was still confused.

"Most of the new scientific recruits are young women,' Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Many of them are around your age; but, have already completed high level schooling. They have the genius of men and women much older than them, paired with the hormones of teenage girls."

"And… well… we have been less than forthright." That was Dr. Necssiter. He was on another phone, one slaved to the same number. "We have truthfully told the recent arrivals that the body they see is Sousuke Sagara, We have necessarily neglected to mention that the mind inside is Kaname Chidori."

"But who… and why…." Sousuke looked at his watch. He couldn't stay in his hidey-hole too much longer. He asked if he could speak to Kaname, but she was in the middle of discussing the most recent Whispers. Or, at least she was trying. The sounds that Sousuke heard over the phone made him wonder if there was some kind of melee going on.

"We've done what we can with Quantum Physics," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "We have made great theoretical progress, and our mechanical successes are quickly piling up as well. But, we have other leads to follow as well. The latest include Particle Physics and religion."

"Religion?" Sousuke was perplexed. He snapped to sharper attention, trying to stand and banging his head against a ceiling of insulation. He sneezed when short fragments of pink material tickled his nose. Were they saying that the events in the lab had been an act of some deity or demonic force? "Are Kaname's Whispers somehow related to Allah or the Christian god?"

"Yes, and no. By that I-" Dr. Necessiter was cut-off.

"Oh… don't be so vague." Miss Uumellmahaye had picked up a third slaved phone. "It's not what you are implying, Sousuke. Not really. Scientific work in Particle Physics often brings up mention of a so-called 'God Particle.' Hearing mention of that name, some pilgrim or prophet at Mithril had an inspiration, thinking that we should look for any possible connection between the Whispers and higher powers."

"Now who's being vague," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Step aside, before you hurt yourself. Sergeant, in case you are unaware, Particle physics… also known as high energy physics…is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects, _particle physics_ usually studies the absolutely smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain the way they behave with other particles. Current researchers believe that these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that-"

"We could all need some _more _vagueness," Dr. Necessiter complained. "And a much simpler explanation. Let's start this over. Last year, physics made headlines around the world. Researchers at Large Hadron Collider, a particle accelerator near Geneva, came upon a new particle they believe to be the long-postulated Higgs boson. That ultimately tiny but enormously important bit of the universe has been nicknamed… wait for it… the God particle… because it was so crucial to existence… yet so elusive. That name itself was a reason why the discovery received so much attention in the popular press… and why some pundits feared a renewed friction between religion and science. By that-"

Naïve sensationalism aside-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr usurped control "-It is worth reflecting on the relationship between faith and natural science. Why? Because those two things do not exist in isolation. In one manner of thinking, there really _is _an important connection between God and the God particle. That-"

"Excuse me," Sousuke tried to interject. He needed to get to class on time. "What about the ass… asses… ass-ignitions." He heard three people stifle guffaws. Why? Was Kaname's situation comical?

"We'll get to the assignations later," Dr. Necessiter said. "But… you are a student… so we cannot neglect your education." Dr. Hfuhruhurr and Anne concurred, without trying to stage a coup for the telephone.

"My education is here… and I'm…." Sousuke couldn't get them to listen. Were all scientists and lawyers this way?

"Particle physics is indeed the study of the building blocks of the physical world. As you learned in school, the atom is not the smallest particle in nature," Dr. Necessiter said. "You were taught about Electrons, Protons, and Neutrons. But, over the last few decades, more and more particles were spotted in the laboratory until a veritable smorgasbord of particles had been identified."

"'Lions and tiger and bears, oh my-'," Dr. Hfuhruhurr interjected "-Can nowadays be replaced by 'leptons and tachyons and bosons, oh my."

"Physicists continue to study and classify the properties of particles, old and new alike," Dr. Necessiter continued. "The current favorite theory describing the fundamental particles and their interactions is called the Standard Model. To the electron it adds two heavier cousins… the muon and the tau. Protons and neutrons are made up of the oddly named up, down, charm, strange, bottom and top quarks. Neutrinos. Photons, gluons and bosons…. so many particles with so many different subtypes. More than sixty… too many to mention now."

"Thank god," Sousuke blurted out. He was _not _a religious person, but that exclamation seemed to fit.

"Shouldn't we all," Dr. Necessiter asked. "In any case, the Higgs boson is the capstone of the Standard Model."

"But it's not the answer to _everything_," Anne added. "For example, the Standard Model does not account for gravitational forces… nor does it tell us what makes up the dark matter and dark energy that fills about ninety-five percent of the universe. But… don't misunderstand me… the detection of the Higgs boson represents a significant step forward in understanding the world we live in and is a true triumph of particle physics."

"They had actually wanted to name it the Goddamn Particle," a technician added, overhearing the conversation, even though he had no idea who was on the other end of the line. Before Dr. Necessiter could push the man's face away, he added "But the publishers would not accept that name."

"That coarser name was an acknowledgement of how much difficult work had been needed to actually find a Higgs boson, long after it had been theorized," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. Having spoken, he took up the ball again and ran with it. "But, the name God particle was not amusing to everyone. Likening the Higgs boson to God can encourage the notion that God is just one physical cause among many. In other words, discovering that latest and most critical component of the Standard Model is treated as the final step in the process by which science pushes away any need for the Creator. That very notion was brought up centuries ago by St. Thomas Aquinas, when he wrote about God's existence."

" If man can find natural causes for everything that happens, he asked," Anne quoted that thirteenth century Doctor of the Church. "What need is there for God?"

"But God… in all of his glory… is _not _a part of nature. He transcends the natural world." This time, the person jumping in uninvited was a girl from the base cafeteria, who had just finished with her delivery of a large number of meals and accompanying refreshment. "God's power of creation should not be confused with the power of physics to explain natural forces." She quickly ceased her hijacking when a tall stack of dirty plates from her earlier delivery wobbled back and forth like a ceramic Leaning Tower of Piza.

"So… Kaname…she's…." Seeing no success in that line of inquiry, Sousuke switched gears and decided to ask a different kind of question. He had been left baffled after the telephone free-for-all. "You have not explained what faith has to do with science… and what science then has to do with Kaname and myself…and I do not have much time left…." He felt remiss not having mentioned that final point sooner. If he could exhaust the subject… and play on their consciences… maybe he could turn to more personal matters.

"I should mention first that philosopher, scientists, and theologians have argued for ages that faith and science have their own proper domains," Dr. Hfuhruhurr added. "They would state that the scientist, when doing science, should not be concerned with describing God or trying to prove or disprove his existence. They would also say that the theologian, when doing theology, should not be formulating theories about the Higgs boson. If either steps beyond his or her discipline, he loses the opportunity to become a more clever practitioner of his own field, and becomes a hopelessly less than clever amateur in another."

"Scientists should get back to their science," a new voice said on a fourth slaved phone. It was Toyotomi Mitsunari. "And administrators should get back to administrating." He felt no sympathy when the two doctors and the lawyer went off to find something more productive to do. "I am sorry they wasted your time, Mister Sagara. I trust you slept well last night."

"Yes, Sir." Sousuke answered. "But they didn't get to…."

"Excellent. About the sleep, I mean." The administrator then said "I'll cut to the chase. I'm sorry if none of this was worth your while. Science and faith are related. Not necessarily in a negative fashion, each competing to come up with the sole explanations of the universe, but rather in a positive way, as complimentary forces in mankind's search for meaning. Despite everything that they discover, scientists can still learn that there are real explanations for existence that transcends their methodology. Theologians that accept the findings of scientists are able to seek a deeper understanding of their faith by learning the things that science explains about God's works."

"I'm still not-" Sousuke somehow felt as if he were at a school within a school, with that school perched precariously on the edge of yet another school.

"A quick example, then." Mr. Mitsunari said. "Consider the assistance that Astronomy has provided to Theology. It has refined the understanding of how God has ordered the cosmos. Plainly put, physical science has no true ability to alter dogmas and doctrines, but rather offers insights that can lead to a deeper and richer expression of what people already believe. So, the God Particle can help people learn more about the workings of God's creation."

"Oh." Sousuke's brain felt a bit overheated, like the barrel of a German WWII machine gun that had been fired for too long a time without being allowed to cool or changed out for another barrel. He thought 'Why couldn't the other people had said that?'

"And…to make a long story short… it looks like new hints about the Higgs boson obtained through the Whispers will play a role in reversing the process you and Miss Chidori experienced, but do it in a controlled and purposeful manner," Mr. Mitsunari stated hopefully.

"That's wonderful," Sousuke said.

"Before you have to go, I will save Miss Chidori from a sordid fate, and bring her to the telephone." The hospital VP's final word was followed by the sound of a phone receiver being placed down.

"About those… ass-ignitions…." Dr. Hfuhruhurr had snuck back to the phone. "I have something interesting to tell you. It's quite obvious that Miss Chidori is not one bit interested in lustful and romantic yearnings of members of her own sex. And, while she has been rather bothered by their incessant advances, it was not because of her sexual orientation and her trans-body experience."

"Then, what?" Sousuke asked.

"She's jealous," Dr. Hfuhruhurr stated. "Those girls are paying attention to your body. To _you_, essentially. But don't let that on to Miss Chidori, or the denial may bring with it a physical renunciation. So, 'mum's' the word."

"And, I suspect that you do not want us to mention to Kaname what the two of us saw on the morning news." Dr. Necessiter had snuck back on, too. "Naturally, you had nothing to do with the near fatal injuries suffered by a trio of street thugs… a kitten being saved by the use of a potato cannon… or the extensive damage caused during a rather dramatic police chase and train collision. There could be any number of young girls with blue hair involved in such noteworthy events. So… yes… I must agree with Dr. Hfuhruhurr 'mum' is the word.

"So… Sousuke… what's with all the 'mums'." That was Kaname on the line.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**LABORATORY**

Kaname was oblivious to the sound of the ringing phone.

One telephone or another… or all the phones at once… had been ringing all night and all morning. Telephones. Portable phones. Com-sets. You name it. She wouldn't be surprised if someone brought in a spool of wire and a telegraph, or if a Pony Express rider rode into the lab on a horse.

But, the constant communication was nothing in comparison to the cacophony and caterwauling of the girls, gals, shielas, colleens, lassies, mademoiselles, frauleins, senoritas, popsies, maidens, damsels, dames, fillies pixies, belles, and missies. A group of women particle physics experts competed with each other for Kaname's attention. But they were not alone. They also competed as a whole for more attention that that given to an equally loquacious gang of well-versed female theologians.

There were male counterparts, too. But, not only were they in the minority, but they also had a much greater sense of self-preservation. Previously, they had all been rejected. They did not want to add 'emasculated' to their resumes. While the girls found any possible reason to compete, the guys found even more reasons to commisurate.

"**God help me!"** Kaname let that slip out of reflex, realizing her mistake the moment the ill-chosen words left her lips.

"We aim to please," a number of theologians said suavely and seductively

"Hey! No fair! Don't forget us!" A number of particle physicists cried foul.

"Oh… you are certainly unforgettable…uncomfortably so…." Kaname's bit off her words one after the other. "And… your… aim… is… way… off!" The comments did nothing to quench the feminine ardor. She looked up at the ceiling and seriously added 'God, please help me.'

The girl inside Sousuke Sagara's body understood why the physics mavens were there. She still wondered if there was any real value in have the various religious experts present, especially simultaneously with the other specialists. Were there members of the Mithril Council who wondered if a religious entity was responsible for the mind and body swap? Or, were the people on the council racing against time, feeling a compulsion to throw everything possible against the figurative wall, waiting to see what might stick?

"I wonder if someone might be playing games here," Anne had said earlier. Many scientific theories had been referenced in her Whispers. But, so far, no social science had been mentioned, and no religious topics had come up. 'It could be that their presence here… and all of their prayers… might be intended to change the nature of the Whispers,' Anne had said. 'They may be hoping for proof of their gods, or for earth-shattering revelations about everyone's place in their god's world. Why should only science benefit from Black Technology, right? Someone might think that very unfair."

'Someone might also think you a sinner,' Dr. Necessiter had added. 'They might all be here hoping to not only harness you Whispers, but also to save your soul… or to save the world from your sins.' That last part sounded ominous, like: 'make certain the world is safe, or else'.

'I don't you think you have to worry about that,' Dr. Hfuhruhurr had said. Giving Nostradamus a run for his money, he sagely added 'I think it's the female rut you need worry about the most.'

"I wish that glass-eyed kook had been wrong this time," Kaname said, mind back in the present time. "These harpies scare me more than anything the buck-tooth buffoon said."

"Sergeant Sagara," a cutesy girl in pigtails and an immaculate white coat spoke up. "Seeing that I studied at Brookhaven National Laboratory…spending a great deal of time with the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider… the world's first heavy ion collider…and the world's only polarized proton collider… I think you should listen to me. We should be putting forth efforts to study hypothetical particles and other states of matter that demonstrate physical properties that violate the known laws of physics. I surmise that the transfer process could have been initiated by a particle having a negative mass. _By the way, do you have a girlfriend?" _The girl's smile looked a great deal like the omnipresent anime cat-faced smile.

The girl didn't notice that Kaname twitched.

"As we mentioned earlier, to determine whether or not there is a spiritual component to the big event, we should go over as much religious doctrine and dogma as we can. As I personally tried to explain, doctrine is a generic term for the theoretical component of religion." The petite girl in a hand-woven religious robe spoke while twisting a necklace of semi-precious stones around ger fingers. "Doctrines are the written body of teachings of a religious group that are generally accepted by that group, and which seek to provide practitioners of religion with guidance regarding instruction… discipline… propaganda… and controversy. _Would you like a girlfriend?" _Another cat face.

That girl also didn't notice that Kaname had twitched multiple times.

"I did my thesis work at the European Organization for Nuclear Research," a prim and proper woman in pigtail and pants suit noted. "I cut my teeth on the Large Hadron Collider… the world's most energetic collider of protons. My facts are unassailable. Negative mass would indeed explain some strange findings here, such as the particle flow in a direction opposite of the applied force. Despite being inconsistent with the expected behavior of 'normal' matter, negative mass is mathematically consistent and does not violate of conservation or energy. It is why the Whispered snippets could eventually assist scientists in the construction of artificial wormholes and the Alcubierre drive. Oh. Before I forget. We should be putting our combined resources towards examining the obvious negative-pressure density produced by the Casimir effect." She coughed_. "How many girlfriends do you want?" _Cat faces abound!

She didn't notice that Kaname fought hard to stop twitching, and failed miserably.

"In general, doctrine is Church teaching in matters of faith and morals and dogma is more narrowly defined as that part of doctrine which has been divinely revealed and which the Church has formally defined and declared to be believed as revealed," a well built and buxom girl in a perfectly pressed habit began. "In my last talk at the seminar, I noted that dogma has come to have a more specific reference to the distillate of doctrines, those first principles at the heart of doctrinal reflection, professed as essential by all the faithful." Those words seemed even more confusing than the science. "_How many girlfriends do you think you can… handle?" _That face was way too naughty to be a cat face. And that was just the beginning.

Kaname began coughing.

"I think I can handle anything the Whispers throw at me," a slightly rotund and very attractive woman in a perm and fabulous frock coat stated. "I rewrote the operating protocol at the Budker Institute of Nuclear Physics in Novosibirsk, Russia… site of the first electron-electron beam-beam collider. The other facilities are all, as you might say, copycats. Remember, negative momentum is used to explain negative refraction, inverse Doppler effect, and the reverse Cherenkov effect observed in a negative index metamaterial. The radiation pressure in the metamaterial is also negative. Negative pressure exists in dark energy." She fluffed her hair and licked her lips. _"Are you a virgin?"_

Kaname began choking.

"I should mention that we are not talking just the Christian faith here. The functions of doctrines and dogmas differ in known religious traditions." A slender woman who had been a model before pursuing a life of faith remarked. There was a Peace Mala hanging from her beautiful braided belt. "For example, in some faiths, doctrines are designed to provide clues into religious insight. For example, the goal of the religious life in Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism, or the concept of God's unity in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Doctrines and dogmas all help to chart a religious pathway to wisdom, rectitude, and fulfillment." She placed a great deal of emphasis on that last word. _"Do you no longer wish to be a virgin?"_

Kaname jerked too hard and banged her head on a precariously perched piece of machinery. A small knot raised on her forehead, coincidentally in the same site as Sousuke's bruise on her own body.

"Let's not forget KEK… Kō Enerugī Kasokuki Kenkyū Kikō…in Tsukuba," a seriously well-dressed girl said, her bangs trimmed to perfection and her lips polished beyond bright. "Not only do we provide particle accelerators and other infrastructure needed for high-energy physics, but we are also reaching new horizons in material and computing sciences, structural biology, and nuclear transmutation. I believe that we should shift our efforts into the possible uses of rarely encountered material, such as Bose–Einstein condensates, fermionic condensates, quark–gluon plasma, quantum spin liquid, and Rydberg matter. We should also recall that so-called Degenerate Matter is a highly dense state of fermionic matter in which particles must occupy high states of kinetic energy in order to satisfy the Pauli exclusion principle. The description applies to matter composed of electrons, protons, neutrons or other fermions. The term is commonly used in astrophysics to refer to dense stellar objects where gravitational pressure is so extreme that quantum mechanical effects are significant. This type of matter is naturally found in stars in their final evolutionary states; but, it could also be formed in a containment field like the one in this facility. And, most important of all, Tsukuba is located only sixty-eight kilometers from Tokyo. _How many times do you wish to lose your virginity?"_

"That's-" Kaname clenched her teeth.

"Doctrine is by no means static," a devout and delightfully dimpled Jains girl said, a white mask covering her mouth to prevent them her from swallowing living creatures, such as flies, by accident. Jains believe in total nonviolence. "They can offer new insights that alter the rhetoric of conventional teaching and, sometimes, its very substance as well. But, the ability to cause change is not universal or equal. For example, persistent continuities between ancient Zoroastrianism and its modern form, Parsiism… or in Jainism for that matter… are more easily understood than those between primitive Hinduism and modern Vedanta. But, change is not always an option. All forms of Buddhism appeal to the Three Jewels…the Buddha….the law… and monastic order, but some sects cannot reconcile with the others in their differences of interpretation and practice. _I am a very good cook. I can clean with the best of them. And I can get the day off at a moment's notice."_

"_That's quite-"_ Kaname grinded her molars.

"I am on loan from the Institute of High Energy Physics in Beijing, China," a woman said, looking as pert and pretty as a porcelean doll. "I have directed the Beijing Electron Positron Collider… the Beijing Spectrometer… the Beijing Synchrotron Radiation Facility…and the Jiangmen Underground Neutrino Observatory. Do not forget Mirror Matter, also referred to as shadow matter or Alice matter, that last name taken from 'Alice in Wonderland'. Mirror matter interacts weakly with ordinary matter, because the forces between mirror particles are mediated by mirror bosons. With the exception of the graviton, none of the known bosons can be identical to their mirror partners. The only way mirror matter can interact with ordinary matter via forces other than gravity is via kinetic mixing of mirror bosons with ordinary bosons or via the exchange of Holdom particles. Mirror particles have therefore been suggested as candidates for the inferred dark matter in the universe, and have a direct connection with the Higgs mechanism and electroweak symmetry breaking. _I can cook better than anyone. Clean better than most. And am available for a week at a time."_

"_**I said that's quite-"**_ If Kaname kept her grinding up, she might need to spend a week in a dentist chair.

"We must not misinterpret dogma and doctrine out of context," a rather dapper and debonair nun said, hand on her cross. "We must not dismiss things that our Creator may have intended, because they do not fit our personal belief of what is fair and unfair, or just and unjust, or in the case of the occurrences in this laboratory, our concept of what is possible and impossible. We should recall from the story of Job, that bad things happen to good people. And, we should also remember that there are consequences for crossing the line in the sand that the Lord has drawn. In the Old Testament, God warns that If anyone secretly entices you…even if it is your brother… your own son or daughter…or the wife you embrace… saying, 'Let us go worship other gods,' you should how them no pity or compassion, but rather kill them. And one of the so-called sword verses of the Koran calls for killing of non-Muslims by saying that such non-believers should be struck upon the neck… or have their fingertips cut off, so that they could not grasp and manipulate a weapon. _I may not be able to cook. And I am not the best at cleaning. But I can suck a golf ball through a garden hose."_

Tick… tick… tick…tick… *BOOM*

"**THAT WILL BE THE END OF IT. I AM NOT A PIECE OF MEAT. AND YOU CAN KEEP YOUR G'DAMN GOLF BALL AND YOUR G'DAM GARDEN HOSE."**

Kaname truly did look ready to explode.

Yes indeed, the recent events were really weighing on her. It didn't help as if she felt as if she had gone to a picnic, only to be swarmed by mosquitoes and yellow jackets. But despite her outburst, the girls and ladies kept buzzing about. "I wish I had some bug-spray," she grumped. But, she had something else to think about other than the fighting Queen Bees, or the discarded drones sitting off by themselves. After her shouted exclamation, she had immediately thought 'You can't have Sousuke… he's mine.' Where the hell had _that _come from?

The weary girl inside of a scar-face boy gained a partial reprieve when a remarkably handsome psychoneuroimmunologist walked in, preparing to give a briefing on the topic of the Mind-Body Connection. Because on some levels that topic had religious connotations, the one set of girls started to dart and dance around him. The Particle physics gals all gave each other high fives; half the competition was gone. Kaname wished that she had a box full of handcuffs, so she could chain those besotted bozos to all manner of laboratory equipment, the way that Melissa Mao had once chained Tessa to a bed.

"It seems that you could use a cool cloth," Mr. Mitsunari said. He purposefully did not say 'cool drink', having been clued-in to the episode with the Prime Minister earlier. "I have something that will pull you back from the brink… or push you over the edge."

"Sousuke?" Kaname guessed correctly. Then, she stood straighter, feeling a shock of concern. "You mean on the phone don't you… he's not _here,_ is he?" He couldn't be. He certainly better **not** be. She needed him to be _her_, at school!

"The same," the VP said. "He's on the green phone." He politely led her back to where he had set down the receiver. Just before they reached the phone, they had to wind their way slowly through a shift change in machinists and electricians. As they did so, Kaname caught wind of two separate conversations. She correctly deduced that Dr Necessiter and Dr. Hfuhruhurr were both speaking with Sousuke. She heard both men say 'mum's the word.' She doubted they were talking about Chrysanthemums. She was well aware that 'mum is the word' meant 'say nothing', 'keep quiet', 'don't breathe a word', 'don't tell a soul', 'don't give the game away', 'keep it secret', 'keep it to yourself', 'keep it under your hat', 'play dumb'; and 'don't let the cat out of the bag'.

Kaname picked up the green phone. "So… Sousuke… what's with all the 'mums'."

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke bit his tongue. His usual response in difficult situations would no doubt lead Kaname to think he was involved in yet another difficult situation. And by difficult he meant dangerous, disastrous, destructive…. or all of the above.

"I was talking about me Mum," Dr. Necessiter said, his British accent was horrendous.

"I was talking about Nessie's Mum, too." Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, his accent even worse. "The poor old biddy broke her leg." He had added that last part at the same time that Dr. Necesiter finished by saying "The poor old bat got run over by a lorry."

"Which is it," Kaname asked. "Broke her leg… or got run over by a taxi?" She wasn't buying either. Things just didn't smell right.

"Both," the two scientists said as one. "She broke her leg when she was run over by the lorry."

"I-" Kaname didn't have the opportunity to follow her nose. Sousuke told her that his time was almost up. She answered 'I'm fine' when Sousuke said he had been worried about her and wanted to know how she was doing. His concern helped calm her down. It seemed to be an anchor, in a sea that was growing rougher by the minute. "But… well… more than ever…." The words just spilled out. "I really need you to rescue me." Her words triggered emotions he way that turning a faucet prompts the spilling of water. She found it hard to talk.

"I understand," Sousuke said. He did. He knew that Kaname was talking about two things in particular. She could use a rescue now, from the group of people that the scientists had told him about. And, she needed him to take care of her body, and to save her connection to high school and the things that mattered to her. "I have always given my best for you." That was no lie.

"Th-" The word stuck to the rough of Kaname's mouth. "Tha-" She coughed. "Thank you, Sousuke." A tear fell, but she was smiling shyly. She shook her head, and then became far more serious and emotionless. She was a class rep and student council Vice President after all. In well chosen and pithy sentences, she told her fellow transferee about the bewildering types of sciences discussed… the remarkable numbers of and types of devices that had been cobbled together… and the fact that they seemed to be making some progress. "But… well… there is one thing…."

"Kaname?" Sousuke asked.

"Because it's minds and bodies, we can't test it with animals. Because it's human minds, things need to be calibrated for…" Kaname paused. That gave Sousuke a chance at conjecture.

"Us," Sousuke said. "Our test run will be our final run." He would trust to fate. He had held his own against Gauron before he even knew what the Lambda Driver was or what it could do. Holding a girl in his arms, he had jumped off of a cliff and made it safely down, without knowing if the buoyant sphere would hold their weight. Having been asked to hook a whale, he had done exactly that, essentially. When the TDD-1 was off shore of the Grenadines, secretly meeting with a resupply ship, Sousuke joined the Natives of Bequia, who are allowed to catch up to four humpback whales per year using only traditional hunting methods of hand-thrown harpoons in small, open sailboats. But, he had been disappointed when the Captain and the head chef aboard DaDaan would not accept his generous offer of meat.

"So, Sousuke… tell me about your night and day…." She gasped. **"The assembly!"** Forgotten, that important fact finally had the good graces to show up.

"It went well," Sousuke said. "The speech drew applause, and the Guidance Councilor congratulated me… you." The sound of the final bell reached him in his hideaway. "I have to go now. I do not wish to get you in trouble."

After Sousuke said his farewells and headed off to his first class, Kaname looked down at her ring, twisting it around her finger so it wouldn't get stuck. The color was Blue, beginning the change to Green She hadn't asked Sousuke what color his ring was. She had no idea if his psionic energy level was the same as her, or even if their rate of decay was similar. The pressure on her was so great. There were so many unknowns. She had wanted to be a trailblazer in her life some day; but, not like this.

"What a strange world." Kaname sighed. Whispers. What a tremendous curse. It almost seemed that she had been cursed by birth. "Birth!" Her eyes went wide. There was another avenue of exploration, one which had somehow slipped the minds of everyone she had spoken with since the Incident. She had the same birthday as Tessa. The Captain had once mentioned that she had the same birthday as Bani Morauta. There was no coincidence there, she was sure of it! She would need to mention that fact to everyone that she could.

"Birth." Kaname put a hand to her belly. Well, again, it was really Sousuke's belly. There was no uterus or ovaries inside there. "What-" She felt a chill. A shiver travelled up and down her spine. What if things didn't change back? She couldn't bear a child then, but Sosuke could. How screwed up was that, so to speak. "Would we be forced to be a couple?"

Kaname thought about having sex with girls, in Sosuke's body. Her face began to grow warm. She thought about Sousuke have sex with guys in her body. Because they could never tell their partners about the truth deep inside, they would always be alone, unless they clung to one another. Her face grew warmer. Having sex with Sousuke then would mean having sex with her own body, right? And Sousuke could have her child! Everything was so convoluted. She felt like the dirtiest of perverts, standing their and thinking about such matters.

Convoluted. Everything had become so twisted and confused. Her body. The science. Everything. It was all Greek to her.

"There you are!" A sprightly young woman with a pert nose and lush lips walked over. She was wearing a tunic covered by a scapular and cowl, with a veil tied off to one side. She was dressed all in black, symbolic of repentance and simplicity. She wasn't very repentant at that moment. The gorgeous psychoneuroimmunologist had turned out to be gay. "Did you know that the religion of Greek people is an important aspect of the Greek culture. The Greek population in mainland Greece and the Greek islands is ninety-eight percent Christian Orthodox. The rest of the population is Muslim, Catholic, and Jewish. Greece and Russia are the only countries to have such a great proportion of Orthodox population." She was building up steam. "The Orthodox Church forms the third largest branch of Christianity, after the Roman Catholics and the Protestants. According to the history of Orthodoxy, the first Christian who came into Greek territory to preach Christianity was Saint Paul in 49 AD. Although many people converted to Christianity in the centuries that followed, this didn't become an official religion until the Emperor Constantine the Great established Christianity as the official religion of the Byzantine Empire."

"Joy," Kaname grumped. She watched as a curvaceous and short scientist elbowed the other woman out of her way.

"We really need to go over the mathematics of the Standard Model of particle physics," the woman said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "They are a gauge quantum field theory containing the internal symmetries of the unitary product group SU(3) × SU(2) × U(1). The theory is commonly viewed as containing the fundamental set of particles…the leptons, quarks, gauge bosons and the Higgs particle. But don't worry. The Standard Model is renormalizable and mathematically self-consistent. However, despite having huge and continued successes in providing experimental predictions it does leave some unexplained phenomena. In particular, although the physics of special relativity is incorporated, general relativity is not, and the Standard Model will fail at energies or distances where the graviton is expected to emerge. Therefore, in a modern field theory context, it is seen as an effective field theory. Of course, the special unitary group of degree n, denoted SU(n), is the Lie group of n × n unitary matrices with determinant 1."

"Greek," Kaname mourned. "Both Greek…."

"I think it would all be so much easier if it really _were_ aliens," Anne remarked, bringing the other woman a cup of ice water and ZipLoc bag of brownies.

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_Many words were begged, borrowed, and stolen from various sources. Including:_

_'Doctrine and Dogma' by Albert Cook Outler._

_'Particles of Faith: Seeking God in Small Things' by Adam D. Hincks._

_And, of course, Wikipedia._

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Side note: My father's father, of eventual English descent, came to America from Bequia.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note__: from here on out, each chapter will represent a class and the following prep time. And after classes, the final chapters will focus on after school activities and a return to the lab._

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**HOMEROOM**

Passing by a mirror in the hallway before reaching the homeroom for Class II-4, Sousuke stopped to make certain he was tidy and perfectly presentable.

Kaname's honor was at stake.

The figure looking back at him did not look like the high school students misrepresented in anime, wearing teal or blue skirts, along with white sailor shirts with teal or blue highlights, and a red bow. Those were middle school colors. Instead, that figure wore a beige jacket with red trim, a white top, and a light tan skirt, also with red trim. The tie too was red.

"It is sufficient," Sousuke announced.

"Finally… I _have_ you!"

A pimple-faced boy from Souske's class was crouched over near a stairwell. An unwrapped box sat near his knees, bubble-wrap tossed sloppily aside, along with packing peanuts and the remnants of a cardboard-and-plastic blister pack. "The box number checks out." He had a small pocket reference book out. "_Oooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o_. I can't believe it. My golden days have finally come."

The other students in the hallway steered clear of the boy, wondering if he was crazed, or had something that might be contagious. Sousuke looked to make certain there was nothing worrisome. The boy held up a five-inch figurine, something similar to an item Clouseau had made a big scene trying to hide from view once. What had it been called? 'Spider Girl' from 'Naked Star'. The boy was checking out the look of the small doll. When he thought no one was looking, he lifted up the skirt, chuckling.

"_**WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS…."**_

The boy struck a dramatic pose, one of agony and loss. Expecting to find a perfect scale representation of female genitalia, he found an overly huge male member. Such are the dangers of buying things through the Black Market.

Normally, Sousuke would have paid the attention no never mind. But, in his current condition, the discovery might have been a cruel joke to the distressed youth, but is also was a cruel reminder of his current… and hopefully not future… fate.

Eri Kagurazaka, the school English teacher and class advisor to Class II-4 was standing at the front of the class room when Sousuke walked in.

"Alright everybody… take your seats." Eri took out an attendance list and a pencil. She called off names and wrote down her findings. Next to Sousuke's name she wrote down 'medical excuse' in fine penmanship, followed after a slight pause by a hastily scribbled word: 'Again.' She saw a hand go up. "Yes, Miss Chidori."

"Teacher, the boy who sits in the third desk from the rear and second from the window…." Sousuke could not say 'I do not know his name'. Kaname would know it. She was class rep.

"Ryo Moroboshi**?"** The teacher asked.

"Affirm-… I mean, yes. That's him." He went on to mention that the boy was having a crisis. He felt like a traitor when he described the details. Students are not locked out of classes in Japanese schools. It is a national principle that all children were to have an equal access to education. But, unless a student was suffering a several psychological or physical dilemma, no one would see to their comfort or aid.

"Well… I'll leave his name blank, then." Eri said. "Thank you, Kaname." She then went on to tell the group that there was only one announcement for the day: the photographers were there for school pictures, and a sign-up sheet would be left on her desk after class. "Instead of more announcements and an analysis of Kaname Chidori's… excellent… speech this morning, the student council president will speak to you."

Atsunobu Hayashimizu stepped into the room, looking as dapper as usual. Light shone off of the third year student's spectacles as he stood just in front of the front row of desks. "After Kaname's exhilarating motivational speech, I thought it prudent to go over the nuts and bolts of things, even though most of you have heard a tit here or a tat there. Putting-"

"I've got all my nuts and bolts," a rather egotistical engineering club member quipped. "And I'd rather look at tits than listen to them." He would construct an even better joke. "But, I'm a good boy, so I'll save the tats until after I'm married."

Atsunobu was not discomforted one bit. He was even more clever than most people would guess. If he calculated correctly, no one would laugh or call out encouragement. Dead silence would hurt the boy more than any teacher's admonition would. He took a small box out of his pants pocket. It was his lucky cricket. Stridulation is the process and act of rubbing particular body parts, called stridulatory organs, together to produce a sound. That sound effect would be perfect here.

_Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup Chirrr-rup _

If the classroom were a Western scene, there would be dead silence, and after a while a tumbleweed might roll by in the gusty wind.

"Putting it all together here… in this place… with you all together as one… might help you find new inspiration, to replace the numbing apathy and exhausting desperation."

A few students yawned. Most were politely attentive. One boy, wrinkled shirt half-tucked in, took a big dripping wad of chewing gum out of his mouth and tossed it over his shoulder. It hit the wall with a sudden _'splaaa-aa-at'_, just missing the rim of a tall black garbage receptacle.

Sousuke did something he had never really done before. He began looking at the room as it was, not as a security task or a safety risk. The furniture was Spartan at best, with the metal-legged desks and chairs having seats, back, and desktops made of dense pressed wood. The windows were of a size that let in plenty of natural light; he wasn't calculating the defenses needed to protect that much surface area. The yellow draped curtains contributed to a sunny look and a pleasant feeling he did not understand; he wasn't concerned whether or not an enemy adept at concealment could hide behind them. The clock looked like a refugee from the 60s; he didn't worry if it might be bugged, or if it could be hiding a small camera. The posters looked like they had been bought from some generic clearing house. The blackboard… green in color but strangely not called a greenboard… had positive chalk-printed kanji sayings that he had never paid attention to before.

The blackboard also displayed amateur art. There was a picture that had to be Sousuke, with Xs for eyes, being struck by a blue-haired oni with a spiked halisen. The identity of the comedian was not difficult to ascertain. Ono-D had handprints on his uniform slacks, made from colored chalk. Eri erased the art, staring at Ono-D, while at the same time Atsunobu stared at the slovenly boy, before continuing. He said nothing to a trio of boys who were talking amongst themselves.

"The ability to get into the high school of choice is where our nation's education system begins to reflect major differences in a student's ability and that student's socioeconomic background. I am certain you know… and if you don't, your parents certainly do… that the ranking of the high school that a student attends is closely related to future employment and career path. You should all consider yourselves very fortunate to be at _this_ school."

Sousuke was behaving as if he had two separate minds. One was listening to His Excellency speak, trying to corral thoughts for later digestion and down-loading, or seeking similarities and differences with his own life. The other was concerned about his coming day, and how he would be able to rescue Kaname's school life, while doing his best to save face.

"Keep you eye on the ball…" Sousuke mumbled, inaudibly or so he thought. "Keep your eye on the ball…keep your eye on the ball…keep your eye on the ball…keep your eye on the ball…." He had to be Kaname Chidori, not Sousuke Sagara. In thought, word, and deed.

Atsunobu had mentioned good fortrune. Sousuke didn't actually feel fortunate, even though he eventually _would_ be, should he somehow manage to finish his education and graduate with a degree. It would be beneficial to have something to fall back on, should an injury force him to retire, or should he grow tired of the military life.

Any degree that he might receive would be fabricated in a sense, given the way he entered the school without merit. And, though he worked hard, his grades were worse than average. He had no concern for expulsion. First, because students could not normally fail in Japanese schools, because of that equal opportunity thing again. And second, because the Mithril-money that paid for clean-up after his many mishaps also bought doctored grades.

"I am not being facetious, nor am I being patronizing." Atsunobu held his hands out, as if welcoming everyone. "I am being forthright when I say that we are all… potential… winners here. Think about that and feel confident going forwards. You have all made the first great step towards your future as we speak." He looked out of the corner of his eye. The vocal threesome had become a foursome. They were discussing school trips to the beach and to onsens. And white bikinis.

"That-" Sousuke hesitated before his next mantra. White bikinis had figured prominently in his life, both with Kaname and Tessa. No. That was neither here nor there. "Don't drop the ball…." Sousuke continued. "Don't drop the ball…don't drop the ball… don't drop the ball… don't drop the ball… don't drop the ball… don't drop the ball…." He wouldn't mess up. Not this time. Not with something so important on the line.

Urzu-7 felt his heart sink. He thought about Kaname. Angel, as Kurz Weber had christened her. She had been through so much in her life. She had tried to kill herself in America, when she was in school there. She was still thought of as an unapproachable idol by some here at Jindai High. She worked hard for her grades. If he were to remain Kaname Chidori, he would steal the results of that work from her, leaving her with fake grades and some consolation prize from Mithril. Maybe that would be safer for someone who was Whispered. But, that didn't seem like a win-win to him. A win-win would require Kaname joining the organization of her _own_ accord some day. Today, sitting here, he was beginning to appreciate her burdens in a greater way than before.

"Did you realize this," Atsunobu began. "The ranking of high schools in any locality is as clear… if not clearer… to all citizens as is the ranking of universities on a national scale. At the local level, the high school that a person attends carries lifetime significance, and stereotypes of associated with each high school become an indelible part of any given student's identity." He paused looking at the chatterboxes and the gum-chewer. He gave a gimlet eye to a girl who was hiding a phone under her desk, texting. "For most students, the serious atmosphere of upper secondary school and the growing pressure of impending college entrance examinations makes high school a low point in their lives." He ignored a catcall. "On the other hand, the drive for good secondary school credentials and university admission provides most high school students with a clear sense of purpose and goal orientation during late adolescence." He smiled. "Isn't that true, miss Vice President?"

"Uhhh-" Sousuke snapped out of his revelry. **"Sir! Yes sir!" **He coughed. "I apologize for that response. Dealing with your… what have others called him…." He tried to remember what some other students that ran afoul of the subtle-yet-sly President had called him, Sousuke Sagara. "Yes… your henchman and attack dog… has caused me to come down with something." She put the same sound of disdain in his voice that Kaname usually had.

"Well, you know what they say," a class wiseacre said. "If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas." That was indeed a quote. But, in this instance, it was dripping with innuendo.

Sousuke fought the urge to walk over and bounce the boy's face off off of his desk. Multiple times. But, he was Kaname Chidori, not Sousuke Sagara. Fighting that impulse now taught him that he could fight it in the future, too. No doubt, improving his disposition and discretion would be something that would make Kaname happy, and bring more peace to her current school life.

"Some animals are cunning and evil-disposed, as the fox; others, as the dog, are fierce, friendly and fawning," Atsunobu remarked, quoting Aristotle. "Some are gentle and easily tamed, as the elephant; some are susceptible of shame, and watchful, as the goose. Some are jealous and fond of ornament, as the peacock." He took out a small paper fan, opened it like the tail of a peacock, closed it again and pointed at the would-be big shot. He said nothing more when the rest of the class turned to stare at the rude student. "Where was I? Ah yes. When high school students have a clear sense of purpose and goal orientation. It is good for the high school as well as the students. Keep that in mind. Just as the school has a great responsibility to you, you also have a great responsibility to your school." He did not dodge when he saw motion. He would not dignify anyone with such a response. He merely let a folded paper airplane strike him and fall purposelessly to the floor. "Miss Mikihara."

Ren Mikihara walked into the room. She had been waiting outside within earshot the entire time. "Yes, sir?"

"I will need you to take down some names." He told her the names of all of the transgressors. "It would be best that you do not let that list… or a growing list, should things evolve in that manner… fall into the hands of the absent Sagara." He deftly twirled his fan around one finger, then pointed like he was James Bond. "It might prove detrimental to some; especially anyone who might insult Miss Chidolri."

"Be the ball…." Sousuke resumed his mumbling. "Be the ball…be the ball…be the ball…be the ball…. be the ball…be the ball… That was a great quote from a ridiculous movie. A ridiculously funny movie. But Sousuke was not trying to be funny. He was dead serious. He would be Kaname Chidori. The way that she tossed her hair. The way that she swiveled ever so slightly whenever she walked. The utter savagery of her halisen strikes. "But-" He wasn't put off by his mixing up of sports. He suddenly felt that the use of 'ball' might prove ineffective. After all, girls do _not _have balls. No. Wait. He had heard a woman musician say 'girls have got balls. They're just a little higher up, that's all'.

Sousuke felt a rise in spirit after hearing Atsunobu's words His reputation as Sousuke Sagara could protect Kaname in an active manner, while he himself could protect her in a passive fashion. That was not a problem. He was very good at active. And he was very good at passive. The problem was, he sometimes chose the wrong method for the right occasion. But then, looking at things through different eyes literally and figuratively, he saw the responses of a number of students when his name was mentioned. Some looked frightened. Others annoyed or even bored. None showed any sign of respect that a specialist deserves. But, to high school students, board exams mattered, not specialists. In battle, these were not people he would go to war with. But in the school setting, Sousuke Sagara was not someone the students would go to battle with. For a moment, he felt a bit hollow inside. What did any of that matter? How long would he be here, anyway?

"Next, I will say something prompted by conversations I heard between students the other day." The student council President continued. "It is quite true that fewer than one in five high school students actually continue their education at a four-year university. Some would say it was worthless to worry so much about future entrance examinations. But I will quote Kaname Chidori by saying it is tough when you do everything right, but the results all seem so wrong. What will you decide to do? Give up? Throw in the towel? Or, will you fight back, even if the odds seemed stacked unfairly against you? Remember this above all. If you give up, you will never make it. You will never find out just how great you can be. You may have to suffer a little… or maybe even a great deal. But if you are persistent… if you have a burning desire to succeed… if you are willing to do whatever is necessary to win, you will come away victorious. If you are ready to fight."

"Don't screw up…." Sousuke was getting better at his mumbling. His classmates could see Kaname's mouth moving, but couldn't hear anything. "Don't screw up… don't screw up…don't screw up…don't screw up…don't screw up…don't screw up…." That's exactly what he used to tell himself in his earliest Mithril missions. Don't mess up. Don't get himself killed. Don't get his teammates killed. Try not to kill the innocent. All while killing the bad guy. Wait. Back the train up. He would not be killing anyone today. Everyone would be innocent. There would be no bad guys. He should try to refrain from his usual professional paranoia.

Sousuke felt a quick sting of pride when the older boy quoted his speech. That actually sounded pretty good. Well, it was good because it had been cobbled together from other people's good words, like an oratory Frankenstein's monster. But, he would take it. Good was good. If a planned shot missed the target, but ricocheted and got the job done, you wouldn't be any less safe walking away.

"It's just a fact of life that in both academic and vocational programs, the curriculum and pace of classroom instruction are geared towards covering the large amount of factual information that is likely to be tested on entrance examinations," Atsunobui noted. "Students in the university-bound academic track feel great pressure and understand the importance of studying hard for examinations long before they enter their senior year. I know you all understand that on a very personal level. I hope what I will say next will make you want to work harder, without feeling more pressure. Your efforts have more worth than students in other schools. Jindai High is one of the top twenty high schools, and those top twenty are the ones that send by far the largest number of entrants to the University of Tokyo. _The_ Tokyo U. And in Japan, a person's university determines a person's prospects for the best careers and jobs. Every institution is informally ranked according to the success of their graduates in securing prestigious jobs. It is very difficult to obtain high status and secure white-collar employment with the government or a major firm unless one has graduated from a top-ranking university. So… unlike the hapless souls at lower level high schools, you truly can benefit greatly from great effort. In contrast, you will eternally wonder what you might have become, if you try less than your best and buy yourself a monotonous and meaningless life."

"Don't get screwed…." Sousuke mumbled and then mumbled some more. don't get screwed… don't get screwed… don't get screwed… don't get screwed…uhhh-hh-h…." He swallowed saliva the wrong way and began coughing. 'Don't get screwed'. He thought about the meaning of that term in the world of Weber and Mao. He then immediately pictured Commander Mardukas turning the screw. Jerking his hand, he knocked his pencil and paper on the floor. He hurried to pick things up and return to his seat as the speaker politely waited.

Sousuke wondered what Kaname's goals were. He suddenly felt very naked, or very stupid, sitting there, never having asked her that. Sure, he cared about her, but consciously he had treated her like a job, an assignment, trying not to fall into the trap that many operatives had fallen into min the past. Getting to know a client too well. Caring about a client too much. Should he follow that tried and true tenant? Or should he try to be like the most advanced operatives, those who can who adapt to every situation in a different way, skilled enough to get the job done even if they form an emotional attachment or two? It was certainly something to think about. Somehow, he felt it best not to question Tessa on that subject. For more than one reason.

"I'm not here to frighten you," Atsusnobu said. "Well, maybe a little. Fear is a great motivator in the short run. But fear over a long period of time can have a very detrimental effect on one's very existence. You see, my comrades, I don't want to wield the stick… I want to dangle the carrot. The things that I have already mentioned have been thrown at you before, by parents, guidance counselors, teachers, other students, maybe even the Lunch Lady." In most Japanese high schools, classes were all held in one room, and lunches were eaten there, too. In most cases school did not provide food, the students did. At Jindai, different rooms were used for different classes, and there was a cafeteria, should a student select to eat there or purchase meals there. "In our nation, university graduates have a lifetime advantage over those who do not have a university degree. Engrave that fact in your hearts and in your minds. The education credential…not the individual talent…determines initial employment with the more prestigious companies and remains a major consideration in any advancement that follows the initial acceptance. It is very rare for a non-university graduate to move ahead of a university graduate in any of the better firms."

"Do. Or do not. There is no try…." Sousuke had his eyes closed, almost as if he had entered a trance. "Do. Or do not. There is no try…do. Or do not. There is no try…do. Or do not. There is no try…do. Or do not. There is no try…." He wished that he could do the Jedi mind trick. If he could, instead of saying 'these are not the droids you want', he'd say 'Kaname Chidori is at school today,' and then head on back to the laboratory, job done. But, he wasn't so fortunate. He had to make certain his efforts ranked up there with the better moments in 'Star Wars', not the goofiest moments of 'Space Balls'. Balls, again. He missed his, but not in some sick way.

Soiusuke's figurative entry examination had been interfacing with the Lambda Driver. His job is being the only pilot of Arbalest. He rarely thought beyond the moment, or at best beyond the day. Why was that fact bothering him now? Was he trapped in a system even more restrictive than Japanese society? Did he want a future? With all that he had done in his life, did he deserve a future? "No… stop thinking… whatever good has thinking ever done for you?" He put a hand over his mouth. He came close to saying that out loud. When he took his hand away, he was smiling. Smiling for everyone to see, even though he had never really known true happiness. Was Kaname like that too? He had that opinion at times. Bright and shiny on the outside, but dark and scuffed up on the inside.

"So, what should you keep in mind?" Atunobu removed his glasses… blew on them… and returned them to their rightly place after polishing them. "With little chance to return to formal education after their first time through, every adolescent depends on doing well in school, first to enter a good high school and then to gain entry to a good university." He slapped his fan down hard on the first desk, waking a boy and a girl two seats over. A few bleary-eyed youths fought to regain focus. "Stay with me people. For those of you who have strayed, there is still time. More than any other single event, the university entrance examinations influence the orientation and life of most Japanese high school students, even for the large number who do not go on to post-secondary education. For university aspirants, it is literally the last major hurdle to leap over on the way to adulthood and to one's preferred employment. Can you guess what the most important thing is about getting into an elite university?"

"Better classes," one student proffered. "Teaching more things,"

"And better teachers." A second student offered what seemed an obvious answer. "Those who can teach those things in a more effective way."

"Perhaps not." Sousuke shocked himself. He had raised his hand. He never answered questions in class unless he was specifically called upon. He had never considered it his duty to do well in school, or to contribute to the education system in any way on a voluntary basis, or at least without sufficient triggers that set off his natural instincts. Maybe that had been a mistake. "I wonder…." He could do it. Firing off an idea could be just as simple as firing off a 57mm round from a _Bofors_ ASG96-B smoothbore gun, right? "I suspect that is not primarily the specific coursework or other academic preparation which students receive at these institutions which is so highly valued by employers. Rather, it is the ability to learn what is taught, work hard, and persevere… with all of those things leading to success on the rigorous university entrance exam. I think I will stop now, before I wear out my welcome."

Soon after that, Atsunobu and Ren left the classroom."

"Hakuna matata…." Sousuke wasn't aware of what he was mumbling this time. "Hakuna matata… hakuna matata… hakuna matata…." Without knowing, he was mumbling in sing song fashion. "What a wonderful phrase…hakuna matata!... ain't no passing craze… it means no worries… for the rest of your days… it's our problem-free phil-os-o-_pheeee-eee-ee-e_…hakuna matata! Why, when he was a young warthog-" He froze. How had _that_ nonsense taken over? He remembered a chopper flight out from the mainland, on an evening when he was exhausted beyond all measure. The Ensign sitting next to him had some child's movie playing on his iPad. He couldn't stop his mind. His mind had a mind of its own. The lyrics kept flowing inside his head: 'When I was a young wart-_hoggg-gg-g!_'…'Very nice!'…'Thanks!'… 'He found his aroma lacked a certain appeal'… 'He could clear the Savannah after every meal'… 'I'm a sensitive soul, though I seem thick-skinned'… 'And it hurt that my friends never stood down-_winnnn-nnn-nn-nd.'_ Sousuke pinched his thigh. Hard. Very hard. That worked. It also drew blood.

The last point that the President made held true for Mithril as well. Sousuke had met many a pilot who had a background in advanced robotics who picked up piloting like genius, and many who were top-notch martial artists whose skilled translate remarkably well to piloting an Arm Slave. Few of them could end up beating Sousuke in a real-world scenario. It would take a man with far more down and dirty experience to win the day against him. Or someone with a substantially better machine.

"That would remain true," Sousuke mumbled. "Whether I am in this body or my own." He slapped himself in the face. He couldn't think that way, whether it was true or not. He could not be defeatist. "Oh… it was a fly…." He offered that explanation when everyone looked at him.

"Poor thing," Shiori said. "She's been talking to herself all morning."

"That must have been one good whack to the head." Maya commiserated.

"Oh, Kaname." Kyouko sighed.

The students were speaking amongst themselves now. Atsunobu's chat had opened their eyes. Thay had never thought of things that exact way before. Their lives would still be very difficult. The long, intense period of study followed by the stress of the examination was referred to as 'examination hell' for good reason. And a common and canonical slogan, '4 hours pass, 5 hours fail,' referred to the presumed relationship between the amount of time a student sleeps each night, and the prospect for success or failure on the examination.

If he was good at anything, the President was very good at reading a crowd. He cut his little talk short, seeing how Kaname Chidori's insight had them all looking at things in a new light. He had planned on talking about cram school industry, the _yobiko.._ Those sophisticated cram schools offer intense training for the entrance examinations, often tailored specifically to the requirements and examinations of individual institutions or groups of universities with common characteristics. Each year, there are about two hundred thousand ronin… students who have failed the exams for admission to the school of their first choice and who have elected to spend a full year preparing to take the examinations again. Many of the ronin enroll in a full-time examination-preparation programs at a yobiko. The number of students enrolled in those programs very nearly approximates the number of ronin. In addition, there are high school students who attend yobiko-sponsored programs after regular school hours and on weekends before they ever take the exam.

There was something that Sousuke did not know which Kaname _did_ know.

Not many female high school students attend yobiko, and male ronin outnumber female ronin more than ten to one. That is not because girls are so much brighter or more dedicated than boys. Those participation patterns reflect the different institutional objectives of most girls in postsecondary education. Female students account for less than twenty-five percent of university enrollments. Their professional career opportunities are limited. And, having never considered the need for a cram school for obvious work-related issues, Sousuke was unaware that the cost of yobiko for a year's full-time study approximates that of the tuition and fees for some private universities, although most private universities cost more.

Sousuke did know that Kaname wasn't an attendee at any cram school. If she had been, he would be too.

Eri had looked at Kaname and Atsunobu with a sense of national pride before the older student left the room They were such fine students. And their tandem talks had been cleverly arranged, or so she believed. Kaname Chidori stoked the fire, and Atsunobu Hayashimizu tempered the steel. She also decided incorrectly that the misbehaving students must have been plants, a clever way to bring Sousuke Sagara's name into things, quieting anyone who might actually attempt to act out.

"I am a teacher. I hate to say this." Eri thought, sighing. "I am so glad that Sousuke wasn't here today."

Before leaving the classroom, the students had a few minutes left to talk quietly amongst themselves. People approached Sousuke to congratulate him on his correct assessment, and even more so to offer praise for his unorthodox but very effective speech earlier that morning. While they were speaking, he picked up small fragments of other conversations, which seemed innocent together, but when brought in close approximation to one another raised a red flag.

Someone had heard that the hallways would need to be cleared at a certain hour. Someone else had commented on a large group wearing crimson sashes. Another person was talking about something that was a family business, and that thing was putting other businesses out of business. He thought of yakusa. Then, in a sense of guilt and responsibility, he thought about those men in scarlet sashes that he injured and inconvenienced.

If that wasn't bad enough, he heard a disconcerting rumor about the fourth class of the day: Japanese History. One of the students did volunteer work after school in the printing room. She had seen something that had given her a big advantage, and her conscience had her blurt it out now.

**There would be a pop quiz today.**

Hearing that, Sosusuke felt all of his morale-boosting mumbling turn to dust, both of his thought centers shorting out. The shock was that great. Yes, there is a saying, 'of two minds'. But, in the scientific community, some have postulated that the human brain is actually composed of _three_ parts: the reptilian brain, composed of the basal ganglia and brainstem, is involved with primitive drives related to thirst, hunger, sexuality, and territoriality, as well as habits; the _paleomammalian_ or old mammal brain, including the hypothalamus, hippocampus, amygdala, and cingulate cortex, is the center of our motivation, emotions, and memory; and the _neomammalian _or new mammal brain, consisting of the neocortex, enables language, abstraction, reasoning, and planning.

That concept explains phenomena everybody experiences at one time or another. Automatic routines which, over time, we have learned do without thinking about them, are largely performed by our reptilian brain. So, when we are piloting a walking-tank half asleep, we may find that we have driven somewhere with no memory of how we did so. That's because the good ole lizard brain had taken the pilot's seat.

It's not a rare thing to have something we are not consciously aware of trigger a complex emotion for reasons we cannot understand. That can occur because the old mammal brain has processed the smell, retrieved a memory related to the smell, and triggered the emotion pertinent to that experience. Understanding only comes when the conscious mind notices the smell… actively thinks about the memory… and puts two and two together. For example, you may find that you are at the base cantina and suddenly feel a heavy sense of sadness that you cannot understand. It is only later that you realize that the soldier at the table across from you is wearing the same cologne as your former squad mate, who died last year.

One very important supposition of the theory is this: our new mammal brains govern our behavior, inhibiting the primitive drives from our reptilian brain when they are not socially or tactically appropriate. That means that all of us, soldiers and civilians alike, can make a choice. We can choose whether or not we are going to give into our primitive urges, or whether we will consciously control them. Sousuke had been laying the groundwork to make that big leap forward. But them, the bomb had dropped. The shock had stunned the control center, for an indeterminate period of time.

But, even so, there would normally be some hope that the middle brain could share the bulk of the burden, and keep things on an even keel. Normally. But, Sousuke was not normal. Not by any stretch of the imagination. First, his neomammalian brain was either severely underdeveloped, or terribly scarred. No one should be surprised, given the life that he had led. But second, and even more important, Sousuke didn't have a small cute lizard at the center of his brain, like the Geico gecko. He didn't even have a nasty beastie like something out of the 'Crocodile Hunter'. No. Sitting at the center of his brain was Gojira himself, his lizard brain having been mutated by forces even more powerful than atomic radiation.

Picture the monstrous reptile slumbering peacefully in some ocean grotto, only to be awakened by depth charges or some overwhelming disaster of man's making. When it rises slowly from the waves, eyes set on Tokyo, anger seething hotter than the radioactive flame churning in its belly, even the simplest of men can guess that things might go very bad.

The only question remaining would be _which _Godzilla script things would follow this day. Might there be an ending like the one in 'Shin Godzilla', where scientists found a way to freeze the big lizard solid. Or, would there be something more akin to 'Godzilla vs. Destoroyah', where Godzilla's heart, which acts as a nuclear reactor, underwent a nuclear meltdown as a result of Godzilla absorbing the energy released from a uranium deposit. The JSDF used freeze weapons in that film too; but, while successfully saving the earth, they were unable to prevent massive nuclear fallout from rendering Tokyo uninhabitable.

Of course, those movies and fictional, and they involve a monster of unimaginable size. How much trouble could one human-sized teenage boy cause?

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_Note__: _

_A great deal of wording was borrowed from the site '__ h_javora' in a section about Japanese school grades 10-12. Also, from Psychology today, in a piece by Andrew E. Budson, MD._

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**PREP TIME**

Jim Morrison of The Doors had an alter ego he called 'The Lizard King'.

With apologies to the late Mr. Morrison, that tile now belonged to Sousuke Sagara.

The young Sergeant stumbled through the school hallway, his mind clouded and his heart racing. A pop quiz? In Japanese History?! A… pop… quiz. In… Japanese… History. His worst class. With _his_ results going on Kaname's transcript forever.

The lyrics from the Doors album 'Stange Days' were fitting at that moment: 'Strange days have found us. And through their strange hours we linger alone. Bodies confused. Memories misused. As we run from the day to a strange night of stone.' The last part of that stretch of lyrics is mysterious, even ominous. Did it mean bad things were coming? Could it even refer to death?

There were long stretches of hallway where the walls were lined by student art. Some art was done by the Art Club. Their work looked professional. Some of their posters were grouped by Classes. Class II-4 had the faces from last year's student pictures Photo-shopped onto real world persons. The girls had their faces superimposed on recent female idols. Sousuke's face had been placed on the head of a dog.

Some of the pictures taped to the painted cinder block walls were the one that students had done themselves in Art Class. Sousuke's piece was entitled 'Night Explosion in Kabul.' It might best be entitled Impressionist; but, had Van Gogh seen it, he might have cut off his other ear. No, he would have plucked out his own eyes. By coincidence, Kaname's painting imitated the style of that famous painter, down to the feature of sunflowers in the background. The foreground portrayed her hamster, eating sunflower seeds. Sousuke was too far gone to question his hamster feeding choices from the night before.

One class of students had taken large plastic bottles and decorated them. Some were made up to look like animals. Some resembled historical figures. A large number were done up to be reality TV stars and anime heroines. There were those that were decorated as famous buildings and structures. The bottles were all lined up in rows, near an intersection four hallways. Sousuke plowed through them with his legs, leaving a path of destruction as if he were Godzilla, Gamera, or Gorgo.

"Hey! Look out you blue-haired big-busted bubble-brained klutz!"

Sousuke had no idea who said that. He made no effort to defend Kaname's honor by thrashing the poltroon to within an inch of unconsciousness. And, at that moment, he _was _a klutz. For some reason, he tripped. He caught himself with one hand pressed to the floor. His long shirt flopped over and covered his blouse. Had this been an anime, it would be the perfect panty shot.

"You there, girlie!" That was Oonuki Zenji, the school janitor, actually more accurately described as a groundskeeper. "If you see that scar-faced kid and the karate freak, let them know I'm still doing my best to obey the restraining order.

That comment made Sousuke feel even more uneasy; but, he didn't bother stopping to think why it did so. The same thing held true when he saw Mr. Mizohoshi the Art teacher arguing with Mr. Kogure the Gym teacher, both of whom Sousuke had a history with. When another school official saw the latter, he took off running. He wasn't allowed back on school grounds yet.

"Kaname!" A boy called out. Sousuke did not bother identifying that speaker either. "We're demonstrating the self-driving car from the Engineering Club. You're welcome to attend, if you like." The person trying to curry favor and more club funding probably would have had the same lack of success had Kaname's mind still been in her body.

When Sousuke reached the most-secluded place he could find on the way to class, he called the TDD-1. He asked for Lieutenant Kalinin, who picked up the receiver on his end after a few moments. The young soldier asked his superior if he could have permission to utilize specialized equipment he had secreted away in his school locker: a pair of contact lens cameras, and an earbud communicator. He explained how he could use those devices in conjunction with someone aboard the submarine or at Merida Base who had a good understanding Japanese History.

"That is a clever plan," the Russian said first, followed by his final word on the matter: "Denied." Communications were terminated on the DaDanaan end.

As soon as that conversation ended, the next one began. "Ah… Miss Chidori…." It was the Guidance Councilor. "Remember… you promised to stop by my office later. Right?"

"I-" Sousuke vaguely remembered the man asking him that earlier. "I… I promise."

He began walking quicker.

The world seemed to be closing in on him there in that narrow hall. Perhaps the larger classroom would help clear his head and give him an enhanced sense of security. Just as he began to pick up his pace, he slowed to a stop. He saw the graceful-appearing man from the Photo Crew again. Why did he look so sinister for an instant? He was asking questions of a number of students. Was that a bad thing? It didn't mean he was some nefarious character. Perhaps that's just the type of thing a photographer or photography shop manager did to set the mood, or to wordsmith some kind of blurb intended to accompany the photographs when they are printed.

"Chidori… wait up…." A third year boy flagged Sousuke down. "Have you seen Sagara today? He told me he would stop by our room today and look over our work." It was another member of the Engineering Club, someone who was working on a different school project. Sousuke said something noncommittal and continued on his way. He could see the classroom door now. Great. He should be able to regain his balance and bearings there. He would formulate a plan. He might come up with the answer that would best serve his needs. He dropped his stack of spiral bound notebooks outside of a noisy room. Bending to pick them up he heard a woman's voice.

"I'm glad you chose to show up," Miss Mainichi said. She called into the room. "Kaname Chidori is here. Move her to the front of the queue." She called that out to some unseen individual, her words giving the sense that she wanted to have Kaname do something before she changed her mind, not because she was giving the girl preferential treatment. To Sousuke she said: "Go right to the head of the left line."

There were two lines of students in the room. The longer on the left was almost entirely girls, all of whom had tinted hair or bright-colored natural hair. The line on the right had only a few students, all boys. Jindai High had given into pressure, when outside agencies strongly suggested that they follow suit when likened to other regional schools. An idea mostly forgotten had been unexpectedly resurrected. The sound of a whirring electric razor signaled the shaving of hair off of the heads of any student who had been caught cheating. The reason for the sound of spray cans was an even greater personal intrusion.

An old Japanese adage says that 'the nail that sticks up, soon gets hammered down'. Japan has a reputation as being a society that demands conformity. For example, all college graduates seeking jobs should wear dark suits to job interviews. Girls are expected to cover their mouths when laughing. Women have to pour the beer at company gatherings. Many undergraduate schools require students to wear the same uniforms and shoes and have haircuts that meet school regulations. In Kaname's and Sousuke's universe, there were a growing number of schools that also required that hair color be the standard Japanese black.

In our dimension, Osaka Prefectural Kaifukan High School in Habikino City actually forced a girl with natural brown hair to dye it black, at her own expense, every four days, despite the fact that she experienced damage to her scalp and hair…skin rashes… and mental anguish from the ridicule she suffered at the hands of her fellow students. That resulted in a lawsuit. And it wasn't the only school with that regulation. Some traditions take a long time to die out.

"Stand right over here," a tubby man said. The white smock that he wore had a large black-stained area in the center. His colored rubber gloves had black flecks of paint smudged this way and that. "Here, put this on." It was a large tan sheet with a hole cut out at the center. "Close your eyes."

Lizard brain in control, Sousuke did not bother questioning the circumstances. The woman was an adult. Adults at the school were in charge. Soldiers obey the orders of those who are in charge. He did not think to question what Kaname herself would have done in his place.

_Sprrrt. Sprrrrrrrrrrrrrt. Sprrrt. Sprrrt. Sprrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrprrrrrrrt. Sprrrrrrrrrrt…._

Sousuke stood still, as black dye was applied to his hair. Part of his thoughts faded backwards in time. He remembered standing in line at Mithril's secret training camp in the forests of Berutarube. While he and the other potential Mithril recruits had their heads sprayed down with de-lousing solution. Kurz had cried out, 'I was a model! I can't possibly have lice!' Mao had walked over, and asked 'Would you rather have me cut it all fucking off, pretty boy?' Only a few thought that she was referring to his hair. She had grinned like a ghoul when Kurz stammered 'nnn-nn-no' and she took the hose, stuffed it down inside his skivvies, and turned the spray on full. The solution was cold. Really cold. 'They're shriveling up like raisins' had been Kurz's anguished wail.

…_Srrrrrrrrrt. Sprrrrrrrt. Sprrt. Sprrrt. Sprrt. _

The spraying stopped. The man asked for the clothes cover back. Listless, Sousuke handed them over.

"Much better," Miss Mainichi remarked. "Much much better. You look like a proper girl, now." She gave Sousuke a gentle push towards the door. "Next."

Sousuke headed out into the hallway, unaware of the full impact of his decision, or lack of any decisive thought. But, sometimes it's better to be lucky that it is to be good at what you do.

"**WHERE IS SHE? I **_**KNOW**_** SHE MUST BE HERE! LET ME AT HER. BRING HER OUT TO ME NOW. RIGHT THIS INSTANT. OR… THERE… WILL… BE… **_**HELL**_**…TO… PAY!"**

Sounds of a commotion spread throughout the vicinity. Someone came barreling through the hallway, checking everyone over, leaving no face…and more precisely, no hair… unchecked.

It was Yoko Wakana.

The officer's face was swollen. Her uniform was in tatters. One eye was swollen shut. She was missing a shoe. He gun was in her hand. Not the pistol she had holstered… the military pump shot-gun she had nicknamed 'Bonta-Kill.' Her emotions could change on a dime. Before, she had grown to like Kaname Chidori. Now, she wanted her head over her mantle, next to all of her Safari victims; the big game animals had all met their end in Disney's Animal Kingdom, not a sanctioned Kenyan game preserve. There were still posters with her likeness hanging in Florida police stations, post offices, and grocery stores.

"_Fuck off!" _

That was Wakana'a response to Rebecca's request that they 'leave the nice school and nice students alone'

"**I**… **am**… **the**…**law**…" That was a pretty good Judge Dredd imitation. More Karl Urban than Sylvester Stallone. "You're just a worthless sidekick!" She took a minute to scrutinize Sousuke. "You seem somehow familiar… but no… no blue…" Before moving on to the next group of shivering students, she called out "Move your ass! Do you want me to drive _that _thing, too?" She was calling out again to Rebecca, who was being pushed in a wheelchair, her head and half of her face covered by two rolls of gauze.

The hallway was dead quiet. It wasn't because of the passage of the crazed police woman. Everyone was staring at Sousuke and his ravishing coal-colored hair.

"Ka-na-_maaaaa-aaa-aa-y."_ Kyouko slid to a halt, camera flashing. "Why did you change your mind?"

"I didn't," Sousuke replied. "The machine did it… no… forget that…. there was no machine at the neurological hospital. There was no hospital." He coughed to clear his throat. "What are you talking about?"

"You said you were not going to give into a stupid rule, not until the Principal had finished her discussion with government officials. You told me things had not been demanded by national or prefectural authorities, only by municipal ones. You said you were given permission to skip."

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke felt numb again. He had begun feeling signs of life, after the sight of Wakana had jolted him back to an earlier brain-setting. His old mammal brain had temporarily taken back command, and was reaching out the baton to the neocortex. Now, the lizard was back in control.

"Kaname?" Kyouko was nudged aside by a growing crowd of students who wanted to see if the rapidly-spreading rumor was true.

"I-" Sousuke tried to think of something that sounded good, something that Kaname might offer as a reason. "Well… you see… it's…" Well, she often prefaced things this way. "I am the student council Vice President. And, I am the class representative…." What else. Altruism. Kaname was very altruistic. "It would be unfair to my fellow students. I have to set an example about following rules. And, I wanted to stand with my fellow classmates who followed the current rules, no matter how unfair they may seem."

He had been forced to watch Looney Tunes at the Merida recreation room when Mao was in the mood. He could picture Bugs Bunny looking at him right this instant and saying 'What a maroon.' The famous rabbit had probably not been referencing to fugitive Black slaves in the West Indies in the 17th and 18th centuries, or the descendants of such slaves. It was probably a comical way of saying 'moron.'

"Well…." Kyouko took one last photo. "I wonder if Sousuke will like it."

"Uhhh." Sousuke froze. He blinked rapidly, before resuming his Kaname persona. "Who cares what that jerk thinks! What's done is done. It wasn't his choice."

But it _had_ been his choice.

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_For those who watch a lot of anime or read a lot of manga, there are a lot of tropes spread throughout the story, either up to this point, or yet to follow. Many of the tropes were used in one fashion or another in _Full Metal Panic? Fumoffu.

_Examples include, of course, the ubiquitous and eternal panty shot. Cute and Pyscho, like Wakana. Ditto, Axe Crazy. Magic Skirt. Anguished Declaration of Love. Pixelation. Clingy Jealous Girl. Pretty Blonde Reporter. The Hero Stole My \Bike. Funny background event, like the boy and his figurine. Cat smiles. Rousing Speeches. And of course, In Touch With His Feminine Side, literally. Not to mention The Thing That Goes 'Doink'._

_Yet to come: From Nobody to Nightgmare, like with the rugby team before. Even Evil Has Loved Ones. Feud Episode. Boot Camp Episode. Cluster F-bombs. The Berserk Button, where a patient and kind person becomes just the opposite. Similarly, Beware Yhe Nice Ones. Accidental Pervert. Goofy Suits, like Bonta-Kun previously. Must Not Die a Virgin. Hostage Situation. Insult Backfire. Killer Rabbit ala 'Monty Python'. Self-fulfilling Prophecy. 'Psycho' Murder Scene Parody. Thanks For The Mammary. Clothes Off Fan Service. Torches And Pitchforks, figuratively speaking. Groin Attack. CPR._

_You know the drill…._


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning:**

Exceedingly dense chapter ahead. Take all necessary precautions.

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**MATHEMATICS CLASS**

Sousuke walked into the classroom, somewhat in a daze.

In a daze would be putting things politely. He was desperate beyond desperation, and feeling foolish beyond all possible foolishness.

He still had not arrived at any kind of solution for his Japanese History dilemma. And, to top things off so to speak, he was feeling rather sheepish about the whole hair-dying incident. Sheepish and on edge, his whole mind alight, as if he had interpreted a set of orders incorrectly, lost an important battle, with the blood of his comrades literally on his hands.

For the safety of everyone in that classroom… no, maybe the entire city… or the whole world… it would be best that no one commented on his…Kaname's… hair. That included the teacher. Speaking of which, the teacher had not made it to the room yet.

"Whoa!" Hisashi Uehara exclaimed. He was a good enough player to be captain of the boy's baseball team as a second year. "Who's that babe? A new transfer student?"

"That's no babe," Makoto Ono said, an equally good athlete and ahead of the boys' soccer club. "That's Chidori." He had been rejected by Kaname in the past. On multiple occasions.

"With a black wig," Keisuke Kagawa remarked. He was another member of the soccer squad. And another rejected sujtor."Hey! Chidori! Who do you think you are, Sadako?" He was making reference to 'The Ring's' shambling, straggle-haired ghoul, the movie character who had started a craze for what became known as 'dead wet girls' …_onryo_… ghost-like beings whose violent, lovelorn or otherwise unhappy demises leave them wandering through the earthly realm after death, instead of passing over peacefully to the afterlife.

Sousuke's trigger finger twitched. His eyes narrowed. He felt Kaname's teeth clench.

"Don't be ridiculous," O-ren Juri said. The barely passable looking girl also had gripes with Kaname. "She's more like the Yuki-Onna from 'The Woman of the Snow.' Leaving people's heart cold. Or, like the woman from the other part of 'Kwaidan'… you know, from 'The Black Hair.' She looks like she's alive, but she's dead inside."

"I think she looks good in black hair," Rumiko Arakawa said. She was an Anime Club fan whose love for the genre bordered on obsession. "However, in cases where the anime character has long, flowing black hair, it can be intended as a shorthand for noble lady…Japanese princess… idol of the whole school. It doesn't always mean 'typical' or 'like everyone else,' like black hair in general. It can overlap with the yamato nadeshiko."

That was a complicated Japanese aesthetic and cultural concept. Well done, such a character will show a subtle touch of iron, being unwilling to let people or things hurt the ones she cares about, or distract her from her goals or missions Poorly done, a yamato nadeshiko will turn out to be the ultimate doormat. Kaname an idol? Certainly, in some student's minds. But her iron was obvious, not subtle, and she would never be anyone's doormat, unless she had to play that role to save the people that she cared about.

"It might be best-" Sousuke felt his pulse begin to race. His reptile brain felt threatened, as if someone had dropped a figurative Oxygen Destroyer in the room.

"Well, anything beats blue hair," Koji Matsuzaka said, another die-hard baseball boy. And, another person Kaname had rejected. "What's that mean?" He looked over at Rumiko.

"Blue typically signifies a quiet, soft-spoken, intellectual, sometimes even introverted character, the girl replied. In addition-" She was interrupted.

"Quiet?" Shing-Shen Xing laughed. "Kaname? Quiet? And intellectual? _Pleassss-sss-ss-se_. She only pretends to be so smart." He wasn't an athlete. He was a mathlete. He was a pimple-face geek and a momma's boy, yet thought he was the cock of the walk. Thing's just didn't add up.

"It would be for everyone's best interest-" Sousuke still could not get a word in.

"Wise, impartial, talented, mature, intuitive, introverted, concerned with science, justice, reason," Shiina Himejina said. She was another anime freak. Her room at home had little room for a futon, filled as it was by boxes of figurines and ceiling-high stacks of manga. "Blue-haired female characters are cool like water… or cold like ice. They are not always noticed, but their influence is clearly felt, somewhat like the wind. They have many hidden talents, and a keen awareness of the emotions of themselves and others. Unlike black-haired characters, they are not averse to seeking advice. They often play the role of teachers, tacticians, and confidants. The darker the hair, the more responsible…but, alternately, they may be an elitist jerk. Supernatural abilities are common to blue hair."

"Elitist jerk," Hidetoshi Honda said. Another soccer player. _"Now_ you're talking. "But the only thing she's hiding is the thing shoved far up her ass. Supernatural powers? Like she's been possessed by some dead woman? **Shit!"**

"She-" Sousuke's natural need to stand up for Kaname was rising like a great beast from the depths. This wasn't the first time that he had heard someone insult Kaname. But, now he _was_ Kaname, at least in body. He felt like he was being insulted, too.

"I think yellow hair would fit her better," Gisaburu Yoshida said. The boy had been black-balled before, kept out of the Anime Club. "Yellow-haired girls are confident, happy, romantic, artful, whimsical, naïve, ditzy, impish, manipulative, callous, or stubborn." He put a strong emphasis on the last three words. "They often fall into three different categories. You know, like the Dumb Blonde: They may be immature and selfish, too." He was looking at a particular girl with hair dyed blonde.

"He's right," Mari Hiromushe was one of the girl's that had black-balled the boy, and the one with blonde hair. "Maybe for the first time in his 3-D life." She was a big fan of 2-D, naturally. "Yellow hairs can be trouble makers, or they can cause chaos unconsciously. They often have street-smarts, charm, and a bag full of of tricks." She laughed. "That leaves Chidori out."

"The third type is very uncommon," Gisaburu said. "Unlike Mari, who is as common as they come. No, even more common than common. The commonest!" He was on the verge of hyperventilating. "They fit the Western trope… the Prince Charming one… and they are chivalrous…humble… and pure."

"**Pffff-fff-ff-t!"** Hidetoshi snorted. Had he been drinking milk, it would have come shooting put from his nostrils. "Humble? _Chidori?_ But pure, that I'll buy. Who would want _her?"_ He waved his arm in Sousuke's general direction.

"I might-" That response had Sousuke feeling very uncomfortable. Why had he said that? And, he had let that slip in front of everyone. But, they didn't hear, and didn't know that it was his mind responding, not hers. His confusion almost put out the burning fuse of anger.

Almost.

"Girls with yellow hair can also be the rude or inconsiderate foreigner", Gisaburu noted. You know… a non-Japanese character with an abrasive or rude personality…' He looked over at Kaname's body. "Chidori was in America for a while. Maybe that counts."

"You're all wrong," Daidai Yoon claimed. "She probably has red hair hidden under blue. Red-haired girls are tomboyish…inconsiderate… loud… they can be headstrong… and sometimes fit the 'leader. archetype. They are the type wo often speak their mind without holding back… or act rash or even stupid. Flagrantly dark orange hair girls are often the same. Both types often have really big appetites."

"Tsundere alert," Gotoku Muto a soccer player piped in. "And those anime girls have explosive emotions. And that's really odd, since red-hair guy are often calm, humble, and disciplined fighters." He shrugged. "The girls are often passionate, seductive, feisty, enthusiastic, adventurous, dynamic, primal, hot-headed, aggressive, opinionated."

"Opinionated? Chidori?" Keisuke feigned disbelief. _"Chidori?"_ many of the other students chuckled or laughed out loud. "Red haired girls play an aggressive role, alright. Just ask Sagara. He's probably in a hospital somewhere, in the HCU… the Halisen Care Unit!"

"No!" Shohei Murakami called out. The baseball club catcher said: "He's probably at band camp… since Kaname plays his head like a damn drum!"

"Uhhh-hh-h-" Sousuke blinked rapidly. The boy _did_ have a point there.

"Green hair," that was Mizuki. "It's green hair. That's what she should wear!" She still ached over Shirai, and had developed feeling for Tsubaki, who had ignored her in his muddle-headed desire for Kaname. "They're poisonous… they're jealous… jealous of other girl's boyfriends." She put a hand to her mouth and frowned, remembering Sousuke's kiss.

"Wrong," Shiina sneered. "Green invokes Mother Nature. You know… evolving over time… having a helpful healing type of temperament."

"Hah! Or bringing death and destruction," Daidai added. She viewed Kaname Chidori as the match that often set the Sagara blaze alight. "And they side with the male protagonist, even when they leave a bad first impression." And, who could leave a worse first impression than Sousuke… third, fourth, and fifth impression, too. Seventh impression. Don't forget second impression. No. It was Sousuke who should have the red hair, but only if _he_ were a _she._ Wait. That's a weird thought. Gender bender stuff only happens in manga and the like.

"I think she should go pink," Kyouko said, feeling a bit shy. She had nothing against blue hair; but, she wanted to say something positive about her BFF. "Pinks are benevolent… cheerful… orderly… accomplished….and innocent. Anime girls with pink hair often bring about a positive change in others." Being friends with Kaname had done her a world of good.

"Just a tip, ladies." Mari butted in. "Guys in with pink hair can be a bit perverse, so watch out! "And some of the girls can look pink, but act more like reds."

"Like Sakura," Shing-Shen said. "Sweet _Saaaa-aa-a-_kurrrr-rrr-rr-rr-ra…." He was a big Naruto fan.

"Fuck her!" Koji blurted out. His emotions pushed him to that point. Otherwise he would never have admitted a Naruto-fetish in front of the other sports types. "Hinata rules! You _go_ girl!" He folded his arms across his chest. "Everyone used to say Sakura was the shit and Hinata had no chance. Naru-Hina rocks!" He was also a fan fiction fan.

After that, some of the students went through the anime hair colors. They always tried to find some good thing about them, and then say Kaname did not qualify, or accentuate the bad points, and lay them squarely on her lap. The camel needed only one more piece of straw to end up with a broken back.

Just a minute before the teacher finally made his arrival, Hangyeol Hwang shouted out. He was grade-obsessed, and very frustrated. Kaname always seemed to score better than he did, and often laughed off her success, making his hard work seem pointless and futile. "She should be a purple hair. A dark purple hair. That kind of character is rare. No, almost extinct. And Kaname Chidori should be extinct!" A small pool of spittle oozed of the edge of his pencil case.

Extinct.

The dictionary definition of extinct was 'Something that no longer exists and has no living representative'. The best example was dinosaurs, which before long might be joined by pandas and polar bears. The Sousuke Sagara definition was 'A threat to Kaname's person, theoretical or otherwise, even if the perpetrator is only acting out a harmless fit of envy and self-loathing'. In his current mood, he painted more than one person with the same derogatory and destructive brush. He held his cell phone under his desk. He activated a special app. The initial result was explosive… literally. The subsequent happenings were beyond explosive.

Weeks before, the teacher had given everyone an assignment. Because of unseen events, the work had never been handed in. But, Sousuke had misheard the teacher, and had done a physical assignment, one which was still in place.

'Trap the Mouse' is a computer-based learning game, one designed to improve a child's logical thinking and spatial reasoning. It was used by teachers to help students make sense of problems and to persevere in solving them. It caused them to look for structure and to make use of it. The teacher had also made reference to 'Color Trap', 'Trap the Pig', 'Trap the Cat', and 'Trap the Zoid.' The class assignment was to use any type of math necessary, along with the required computational skills, to design a game that a young child student could play at school, sitting at his or her desk. Sousuke had been woolgathering at the time, running over the plan for an upcoming mission in his mind. All he had heard was 'construct'… 'trap'…and 'at student's desks.' As usual, a mistake took the form of misconstruing and maladaptation.

"I believe his desk is number '5," Sosuke said to himself silently. He pushed the number '5' on the phone.

**BAMMM-MM-M-FFF!**

A small charge went off. That triggered release of a gaseous mixture under pressure, spaying up at an angle and coating Mari with a sticky gray goo. It was synthetic skunk scent. If possible, it smelled worse than the natural anal gland contents of the defensive animal, which is a close relative of Palawan stink badger and the Sunda stink badger, inhabitants of the western islands of the Malay Archipelago: Sumatra, Java, and Borneo and in the case of the Palawan stink badger, the Philippine island of Palawan. Some student of another class would later nickname the stricken girl as Suzy Stink Badger. An ultimate unexpected consequence.

Of a historical note, Kurz Weber had made the mistake of taking a nude photograph of Melissa Mao, while the two of them were on a training mission with Sousuke, camping on Mount Mantalingajan, the highest point in the province of Palawan. After spending a day gathering intel from the Tau't Bato tribe, they had bedded down for the night. Kurz found a stink badger in his sleeping bag. Remnants of the odor clung to him for months.

Students began coughing and sneezing. A fair number had to fight the urge to vomit. Some thought to escape the noxious odor of the room, but were halted by Sousuke's corrrective action. "If it is not '5', it is probably '7.' He pushed another button.

_**ZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZ-Z-ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZZ-ZZ-ZZ**_

The seats in the back row Were all wired for electricity, With terminals on the underside attached to small Black Technology batteries. Those were the seats that had been claimed by members of sports clubs and teams. The boys and girls sitting in their seats shook in place, mouths rigid and open, bodies shaking, hair sticking out straight and staying that way. When their mouths began moving again, no sounds came out. The other student looked frantic, picturing themselves in a situation no different than the one in the film 'Kajaki', also known as 'Kilo Two Bravo', where a small unit of heroic British soldiers positioned near the Kajaki dam in Afghanistan set out to disable a Taliban roadblock In a dried out river bed, they found themselves trapped in an unmarked minefield, a relic of the Soviet campaign in the 1980s.

"I could have sworn it was '7'… or '5'…." Sousuke shrugged. If at first you don't succeed, try tray again. If one shot won't kill the enemy, try a few more. "Let's see… how about '9'… or maybe ;0'." He pushed one button, and impatient, pushed a second without seeing who the target of the first one was. He knew the general area o the room targeted. All of the students seated there had spoking ill of Kaname.

**WRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO**

_**WZZZZ**__-UUUU-__**WZZZZ**__-UUUU-__**WZZZZ**__-UUUU-__**WZZZZ**__-UUUU-__**WZZZZ**__-UUUU-__**WZZZ**_

The sounds were barely audible to the human ear. No one further than a desk away could hear them. But, the vibrations could be felt in every inch of the classroom. The first set of targets were hit by a concentrated sonic beams in the solar plexus region; the secret scientific weapon triggered an explosive reflex contraction of the circular muscle in the colon, propelling feces in a fast and furious fashion, far beyond the rectum. What was comical and make-believe in South Park… the 'Brown Note'…was real in the arsenal of Mitrhil. They possessed many devices that could serve as practical deterrents in the proper scenario.

Plain and simple, Hangyeol Hwang shat his pants. So did Daidai and Gisaburu situated in the chairs behind him. Liquid stool leaked out from the bottom of their pants and formed a brown pool at the feet of the victims' chairs.

But, that was not all.

If there was an actual Brown Note, there was also a similar but mechanically much different Yellow Note. Shing Shen was the target for that one. The intense sonic beam set off the necessary coordination between the central, autonomic, and somatic nervous systems, prompting action in the boy's brain centers that regulate urination, including the pontine micturition center, periaqueductal gray matter, and the cerebral cortex. It was a real pisser, in a literal sense. Mizuki drenched her pants, her seat top, and a ten-foot radius of floor tiles. The students seated in the desks encircling hers fought hart to hold their water. Two were unsuccessful.

"What-" Takebe Mochizuki, the Mathematics teacher strode into the room, late from a teacher's meeting. "How-" He looked at the boys with hairdos befitting a Japanese horror movie. There were small tendrils of smoke streaming off of that hair. A wall of stench struck his nose, and he doubled over for a moment. Quickly, he opened a desk drawer, un-taped a special key, and rushed over to the large windows lining one wall and opened those windows, letting in a strong burst of air. When he replaced the key, Sousuke took keen notice.

"I'm sorry, we don't have time for that now." Mr. Mochizuki's voice was very nasal. He was using fingers to pinch his nose. "We've lost some time already. I apologize for that. We need to get to your assignments, before we can move onto a new lesson plan tomorrow." The afflicted students had asked to be allowed to use the school showers, or to visit the school nurse. "Let's see. Yesterday we went over the mathematic behind the sorobam," that was the Japanese abacus. "And, we demonstrated how a trained soroban user can do calculations faster than someone using a calculator. And, we saw how someone using azna sorobam… seeing an abacus in their mind with no soorbam in hand… can move faster yet!" Every year for his birthday, he had gotten an abacus and nothing else. "Let's see… what else…" He looked at his ledger.

"Yesterday we did inductive reasoning", Kyouko said, eyes watering. Her nose was pinched too." And we applied our finding to mathematics in daily life."

"**Right!"** The teacher said. "Thank you, Miss Tokiwa" He nodded his head. His method of teaching, commonplace in Japan, did not emphasize finding correct answers, but rather prompted students to show what they were thinking. Teachers choose problems or challenges that are appropriate to the lesson they want learned, after anticipating how the students might solve them. The teacher does not explain an answer at first; he lets the students think through thinks themselves. That helps the students see the connections between what they are learning and real life. The lesson planning is not created day-by-day, but rather is planned for an entire year. And, the lesson plans are not put together solo.

The 'open lesson' method forces teachers to plan lessons together… to teach the lesson with other teachers watching… and to discuss the success or failure of that method after class, refining it for the next year's class. Observers had shown up at the door late from the meeting, and quickly decided that there were better things to do than watch_ this_ class. One called the janitor. The odor was bad enough. It was worse, wondering what the caustic custodian might do.

"And… let me see… today some of you have to present the mathematics behind your hobbies." The teacher looked at his student roster, ignoring the names with checkmarks next to them; they had been called on before for one task or another. "Miss Tokiwa, it seems that you are first up. What did you choose?"

"Dominoes," Kyouko said, standing up and bowing to Mr. Mochizuki "I chose dominoes." That choice was very ironic. The class had fallen victim to the end domino in a chain of falling dominoes. They had suffered the domino effect, a chain reaction where a cumulative effect is produced when one event sets off a chain of similar events. Sousuke had been through a large number of events since the instant of the mind-body switch.

The 'term domino effect' is best known as a mechanical effect, and is used as an analogy to a falling row of dominoes. The term can be used literally or metaphorically, as in the case of global finance or politics. The term domino effect is used to imply that an event is inevitable or highly likely. The converse term 'the one domino left standing' implies that an event is impossible or highly unlikely.

A major example of domino theory was prominent from the 1950s to the 1980s. Some world leaders posited that if one country in a region came under the influence of communism, then the surrounding countries would follow in a domino effect, That domino theory was used by successive United States administrations during the Cold War to justify the need for American intervention around the world. A more modern version suggested the potential spread of both Islamic theocracy and liberal democracy in the Middle East. During the Iran–Iraq War the United States and other western nations supported Ba'athist Iraq, fearing the spread of Iran's radical theocracy throughout the region. In the 2003 invasion of Iraq, some politicians argued that when a democratic government is implemented, it would then help spread democracy across the Middle East. The latter was an example of a "reverse domino theory,' because the results would be positive, not negative. Mithril had a number of domino concerns with Amalgam, and had their hands full cleaning up the messes of other nation's domino games.

After explaining why she had chosen dominoes, Kyouko said "The most common domino sets commercially available are double six… with 28 tiles…and double nine…with 55 tiles. Larger sets exist and are popular for games involving several players or for players looking for long domino games. The number of tiles in a set has the formula ( n + 1)(n + 2) over 2 for a double set." She mentioned equations for other sets as well. "The number of tiles in a set of [n-n] dominoes is given by the formula ((n2 + 3n + 2)/ 2). For example, the number tiles in a [18-18] set is (18*18 + 3*18 + 2)/2 = 190."

"Very good," the teacher said. "Do you know the 'single train problem'?"

"Yes," Kyouko said, smiling. "Given a set of [n-n] dominoes, is it possible to arrange all of the tiles into a single train? A train is a line of tiles each of whose ends match the end of the tiles to their immediate left and right, with the exception of the two end tiles which match on one end only, of course. Can you arrange a set into a single circular train? A circular train is ring of tiles laid end to end where both ends of each tile matches its left and right hand neighbors. Obviously, if a circular train exists, it can be broken apart at any point to give a single train. By simple trial and error, the answer for the zero set is 'yes' for a single train because it is a trivial train itself. The answer is 'no' for a circular train because the one member of the set cannot bend around to touch itself. The [1-1] set is made up of the tiles [0-0], [0-1] and [1-1] which is a train when played in that order, but it is not a circular train. As the value of (n) increases, answering this question by trial and error is going to get to be much harder." She went on for a few moments longer, before being asked to take another track.

"Can you explain 'Clark's Law' to the class," the teacher inquired.

"I can," Kyouko said before complying. "In a blocked game of single spinner dominoes, the sum of the four arms of the tableau must always total to an even number. The first corollary of Clark's Law is that the sum of the four hands in a blocked game is always an even number. This is because the double six set has 168 pips in it, which is an even number and an even number minus an even number is an even number. This is because Clark's law derives from the facts that doubles are always even, so the spinner will have four identical halves against it. Then in each arm-" After a number of mathematical gymnastics, she finished her piece.

"Besides playing games, another use of dominoes is the domino show," Mr. Mochizuki said. "You probably know what I mean. When dominoes are set up in lines, standing them on end, lines with the first toppled tile toppling the second, and so forth and so on. Miss Tokiwa your continuation for next week will be the discussion of how that phenomenon can be used to create a domino computer," he looked back at his ledger.

"Please not be me…" Sousuke whispered. "I mean… please don't be Kaname….."

"Next… yes, it will be interesting to see what you chose…." The teacher looked over at Sousuke "Miss Chidori."

"Uhhhh-hhh-hh-h…." Sousuke's thoughts scattered like a flock of birds sent to the wing by a series of shotgun blasts. "I-" Wait. He _had_ read something. He had not understood it entirely while perusing Kaname's magazine, JSM, Japan Sports Magazine. But, because it dovetailed with something he had coincidentally researched before, it came to mind in a way he could regurgitate successfully. "As many of you know I like to play softball and watch baseball." He wasn't discomforted by the odor in the room. He had faced much worse in his childhood. The miasma od death on a large battlefield, days after a large engagement, now _that_ can be stifling.

"Yeh," Makota said to Keisuke. "But, I don't know how she bend over and catch the ball with those boobs." Thy both laughed. "But… hey… at least she's not board-chested like the rest of them." The two of them were _not_ making female friends right then and right there.

"Speaking of boards," the teacher said. His hearing was acute. "Both of you head up to the chalk board. You will be writing down any and every formulaic part of Miss Chidori's assignment." The grumpy grumbling guys shambled up to the front of the class. Some of the girls made quick clapping motions. One pulled down an eyelid and stuck out her tongue. "Miss Chidori-"

"Wins Above Replacement, a shortening of Wins Above Replacement Player," Sousuke began, picturing the magazine article in his head. "It most often abbreviated, often as W.A.R."

"Good thing Sousuke isn't here," Kyouko said "Everyone laughed. Everyone knew why everyone else was laughing.

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke often heard comments like that, even when he was in the room. It somehow sounded somewhat different, sitting there ostensibly as Kaname Chidori. "W.A.R. is a non-standardized sabermetric baseball statistic developed to sum up "a player's total contributions to his team. A player's W.A.R. value is claimed to be the number of additional wins his team has achieved above the number of expected team wins-" Sousuke paused. "Yes. Shinji?" His friend had his hand up.

"What is sabermetric? Does it have something to do with swords?" Shinji asked. One could always hope.

"Saber. From the _S__ociety for __A__merican __B__aseball __R__esearch_. Sabermetrics is the empirical analysis of baseball, especially baseball statistics that measure in-game activity," Sousuke said. "Sabermetrics methods are generally used for three purposes: To compare key performances among certain specific players under realistic data conditions; to provide prediction of future performance of a given player or a team; and to provide a useful function of the player's contributions to his team. The higher math-"

"I'm sorry I asked," Shinji said. Many people murmurred agreement.

"I see-" Sousuke sat there just blinking for a moment. Then, his brain did a course correction and he was back on track. Picture the article. Find the right place. There. "A player's W.A.R. value is claimed to be the number of additional wins his team has achieved above the number of expected team wins if that player were substituted with a replacement-level player: a player who may be added to the team for minimal cost and effort." He gave more explanation, and examples from American Major League players. "You. At the board. Wake up. I will be speaking a formula soon."

"I am looking forward to that," Mr Mochizuki said. He was a mathematician, after all. But he was also a baseball fan. Tokyo Yakult Swallows. Like other Japanese teams, they were named after their corporate owners, in this case the Yakult company.

"No clearly established formula exists for W.A.R.," Sousuke said. "Sources that provide the statistic calculate it differently. I will reference , a website providing baseball statistics for every player in Major League Baseball history. Their method uses six components to calculate W.A.R. for position players. The components are batting runs; base-running runs; runs added or lost due to grounding into double plays in double play situations; fielding runs; positional adjustment runs; and replacement level runs based on playing time. The first five factors are compared to league average, so a value of '0' represents an average player. The formula is:

"bWAR = (P runs – Aruns) + (Aruns -Rruns)," He gave more explanation. " That gives us wRAA equals wOBA - .320 over 1.25* (AB + BB + HPF + SF + SH), where OBA equals (alpha1* uBB + alpha2* HBP + Alpha3* 1B + alpha4* 2B + alppha5* 3B + alpha6* HR + alpha7* SB – alpha8* CS) over (AA + AB – IBB + HBP + SF)." Baseball fans should be able to figure out the abbreviations. Sousuke explained the abbreviations for his class.

"Is that all?" Makoto asked sarcastically.

"My arm's about to fall off," Keisuke complained.

"No," Sousuke replied. He _had_ been finished. What he had mentioned should be good enough to earn Kaname high marks. But, he decided to pile on, as if he were playing rugby. "This is a formula used by Fangraphs:

"fWAR = wRAA + UZR + Position + 20 over 600* PA." Sousuke gave more explanations. "And… since you are so eager, I will add:

"One baseball analyst claims that fW.A.R. does an 'impressive job of projecting wins and losses'. He found that a team's projected record based on fW.A.R. and that team's actual record has a strong correlation… I should specify a correlation coefficient of 0.83… and that every team was within two standard deviations… where sigma equals 6.4 wins."

"Please… somebody shoot me," Makoto fell to his knees in mock despair. "Put me out of my misery."

"That can be arranged," Sousuke mouthed inaudibly, before saying aloud "There is still one man at the board" He eyed Keisuke. "A different analyst conducted a regression analysis comparing the cumulative rW.A.R. of five randomly selected teams per season against those teams' realized win totals for those seasons. He found that the two were highly correlated, with a correlation coefficient of 0.91, and that eighty three percent of the variance in wins was explained by fWAR where R-squared equals 0.83. Ah… yes… and the standard deviation was 2.91 wins. The regression equation is as follows:

"Wins = 52.7 + 0.97* fWAR," Sousuke said, before adding two similar equations. When he finished finally, he gave Mr. Mochizuki a short bow.

"Most excellent, Miss Chidori," the teacher said, beaming. He was even happier with that morass of numbers than he had been with Kyouko's mind-numbing examples. He checked his list again. "Mister Sagara. Hmmm-mm-m… since he is not here… I will need to mark this against his cumulative grade."

"Sousuke has a medical excuse," Kyouko offered kindly.

"I am sorry to say that as a mathematician, I keep score," Mr. Mochizuki was pleased with that last term, after all of the baseball equations. "So.. next I will call on…."

"**Wait!"** Sousuke wasn't certain why he called out. He had missed many classes, and his grades were always good in the end, thanks to good ole Mithril Money and Military Magic. But, he was sitting right here, right now, even though his body was somewhere else. "Sousuke told me his work, because he found it was derived from W.A.R. in a sense."

"_Really?"_ Mr. said, entranced. He was never one to pass up something interesting in mathematics. "Okay. Pretend to be Mister Sagara. Give the report the way that _he_ would." He frowned when a couple of wiseacres hid under their desk, the way they would when Sousuke gave one of his reports that included show and tell.

"**Affirmative!"** That had slipped out automatically, but had the entire class applauding what they saw as Kaname's imitation. _"Uhhhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h-"_ That brought chuckles, too. "It is not a problem. Sousuke said that his statistic is WAR. W… A… R… without the periods. It is _not_ an abbreviation."

"Of _course_ it's WAR," Gisaburu said. "What _else_ could it be?"

"SHOOT," Hideki added. "Or maybe FIGHT."

"BOOM," Mari offered. "Most definitely BOOM."

"That's right," Koji chipped in. He tried to imitate Sousuke's voice and diction. "WAR + FIGHT + SHOOT = BOOM!" That had everyone laughing.

"Hah hah!" Hidetoshi said smiling. "It's like everything he says. 'I had to SHOOT my lunch and FIGHT to swallow it down, then I had to go to the WAR room and take a massive BOOM. I was ready to KILL when I found there was no REAR ECHELON paper." If his trap hadn't already been triggered. It would be now. Sousuke was pushing on that chair's button to no effect.

"That will be enough," Mr. Mochizuki said. He hid a smile. It _was_ kind of funny. And it some of it had been done in equation form. "Miss Chidori-"

"Sousuke said that he had used his WAR to estimate a given military tactician's contributions beyond or below an average tactician," Sousuke started. "I will give his explanation for the model, which can evaluate a general's quality based on how much they exceeded or fell short of a replacement general in the same circumstances." He went on to describe how Sousuke Sagara had painstakingly developed the database first. "I… _he _constructed a linear model from all of the battle data he could access or surmise. For each battle, he separated the combatants' forces into infantry, cavalry, artillery, air force, and navy. He could then weight a general's numerical advantage or disadvantage compared to their adversary, and better isolate the general's ability as a tactician."

"Kick _assss-sss-ss-s."_ Shinji was pounding his desk with his fists.

"Mr. Kazama," the teacher said. "Do I need to send you to the nurse's office? I believe that she has studied psychology."

"No sir," Shinji answered. "I am sorry Kaname."

"It is not a problem," Kaname said. That had people giving a thumbs up for a repeat Sousuke impersonation. "Sousuke said that raw soldier quantities have a relatively small effect compared to other factors such as terrain or technology. But in this initial project, the results potentially inflate the importance of a commander's tactical acuity compared with other factors. Sousuke made an effort to rank each general and analyze the results. He did that by isolating each general's battles, and assigning a WAR score to their performance in each of those conflicts."

Sousuke walked away from his desk and dismissed his fellow two students. He grabbed pieces of different colored chalk and began writing equations and drawing graphs. "I will provide this example, "he said. "French Emperor Napoleon gained .49 WAR for his victory at the Battle of Borodino. Since French troops slightly outnumbered the forces of Russian Empire, the model gives a replacement general in Napoleon's position a fifty two percent chance of victory. The WAR system assigns Napoleon one win for his victory, but subtracts the chance a replacement general would have won anything. As such, he assigned Napoleon gains .49 wins above replacement." He went on a few minutes longer.

"That is beyond fascinating," Mr. said. He had to cut things short, wanting to go over other things in class that day. But, he was also a big History buff, and had a particular fascination with ancient battles. "There are so many generals to hear about. So many battles. So many calculations." He dabbed at his forehead with a piece of paper towel that he found in his desk. "I particularly want to hear about Hannibal. Alexander the Great. And Julius Caesar." He snapped his finger. "And Ghengis Khan. Subatai. So many others!"

"**Me too!"** Shinji didn't fear a visit to the school shrink. The teacher was far beyond him at that given instant.

"I'm sure everyone does!' Mr. was selectively deaf to the cries to the contrary. "And this is how we will accomplish it! Miss Chidori, you and Mister Sagara will be our representatives at the Math Day presentations in the Tokyo Dome. We are one of three schools selected to strut our stuff this year. There should be thousands of students, parents, teachers, school officials, and government big wigs. Not to mention more camera crews than one can count. I want you to open with a brief explanation of W.A.R., with Mister Sagara following with his brainchild. It need not be anything onerous. I would say about an hour's worth. You have one month to prepare."

"I… that… _uhhhhhhh-hhhhhh-hhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h_-" Sousiuke felt like he had been hit with one rubber bullet between the eyes and another between the balls. The setting alone seemed rather daunting. His presenting anything otaku would set Kaname into a terrible temper tantrum. Dragging her into it would only magnify matters. And… oh shit… no!… the TDD-1 crew would need to know about it. What if Commander Mardukas wanted to be in the audience?!

The teacher, as he was wont to do, tried to make his students enthusiastic about a career in Math. This time, he chose to speak about something that might hit them in their wallets and pocketbooks.

"In 2000, the Clay Mathematics Institute of Cambridge, Massachusetts, laid out seven of the most challenging problems mathematicians were grappling with at the time." Mr. Mochizuki said. "They then offered a one-million dollar reward to anyone who could solve one. These problems represent the deepest mysteries in the field of mathematics. Some of them point to extremely useful practical applications, like engineering better spaceships, more effective drug treatments, and tougher cybersecurity encryption standards. Others seem to have no practical applications whatsoever, and but offer us a chance to get a more detailed look at how the universe works." After the short commotion died down, he mentioned the seven problems:

Yang–Mills and Mass Gap. Riemann Hypothesis. P vs NP Problem. Navier–Stokes Equation. Hodge Conjecture. Poincaré Conjecture. Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer Conjecture.

After that, he mentioned simpler math challenges that would provide employment for mathematicians for years to come. Those included 'Biological Quantum Field Theory and statistics used to model virus evolution,' 'High Dimensional Mathematics use to accurately model and predict behavior in large-scale distributed networks that evolve over time occurring in communications, biology, and the social sciences, and 'Mathematics of Quantum Computing offering explanations of how quantum phenomena shape our world, and the need to further develop the mathematics that will allow us to control the quantum world.' The word quantum kept tempting Sousuke to look at the ring. It was too soon to do so. And, to what effect? The last example had him sitting up straighter in his chair: "We need to develop another advanced mathematics," Mochizuki said. "We need to use it to develop a functional model of the brain that is mathematically consistent and predictive rather than merely biologically inspired."

"**Sir!'** Sousuke had stood up. His heart was pounding. "Are there mathematicians working on that now? Have they made sufficient progress? Do they have theories that explains what the human mind is, apart from the brain?" If he could find out anything useful, he would phone it in to Kaname and crew immediately.

"Sadly, no." The teacher shook his head. Then, he perked up. "Perhaps you will be intimately associated with the Mathematics of the Mind someday. Who knows what amazing science you can be associated with?" He wondered why the black-haired girl had gone pale. He looked over at the classroom clock. "Well… that will be it for today…."

Everyone in the room left to go about their business. The sports team members and the other victims were thirsting for blood, so to speak. Because Sousuke was not there, they had to find some other outlet for their anger and thirst for revenge. Someone would pay. Sooner or later.

The last straggler, Sousuke left the room just before Mr. Oonuki walked in. He heard an anguished shout as he made his way down the hallway.

"**WHAT THE FUCKING MOTHER OF ALL FUCKING KOI HAPPENED HERE?!"**

People outside the room hurried away when they heard desks and chairs being kicked across the room, as the irate custodian cleared the floor in a speedy and superhuman cleaning effort. They did not hear the man say 'I think Betty Lou needs to go on her first date."

Betty Lou was the name he had given his newest chain saw.

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_This portion of the chapter owes a great debt to 'Napolean was the best general ever, and the math proves it' by Ethan Arsht. And, to Wikipedia. And multiple Google entries on the meaning of anime hair color._

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**PREP TIME**

Sousuke cursed.

He had intended to spend his time in that last class to solve his greatest problem, even though there would be no one-million dollar prize awaiting him. Japanese History. Pop Quiz. Those words began echoing in the vault of his skull again.

How could he escape that conundrum? He had come up with the perfect way out, but his superiors at Mithril had voted him down. Why? Was it because he would be cheating? His entire mission at the school was one big cheat!

"**That's it!"** Another perfect solution. "I can become ill." He could do the acting required, or even go as far as to imbibe something that would literally make him ill. "Than I can leave school, having made my appearance as required as Kaname Chidori. That will satisfy the attendance stipulation… and it will allow Kaname a chance to take the make-up exam when she… hopefully… is back in this body." He grimaced. His breasts bounced again. That was so unnerving! How did girls put up with that!

Sousuke sighed. He was the one to veto that plan. "I gave the Guidance Counselor my word," he moaned. "I cannot make Kaname a liar." A bad grade could be explained away. Traumatic brain injury would suffice. And, should the grade remain, Kaname's grades were more than robust enough to take one misfire. He would head over top the counselor's office.

On his way, Sousuke passed by the long-haired photography guy again. He did a double take. The man's posture left him feeling uncomfortable. No, he was not Kaname, and he did not find the man attractive. It was the way that he stood. Certain motions he made with his hands and arms. What was it about those actions that gave him a sense of déjà vu. He listened to the man speak for a few moments. There didn't seem to be anything untoward in his questions and comments. Students with an appointment for the student photos chatted with the man before heading into a room reserved for the photo shoot.

"**Ahhh!"** Sousuke realized something as he walked. "Something about that man reminds me of Kurz!" His first thought was to suppose the man might be an enemy A.S. pilot. He quickly waved that absurdity away. "A model. I wager that the man was once a male model." That mostly quenched his heightened paranoia. Mostly.

Trying to get mathematics out of his head, Sousuke stopped abruptly in the hallway, apologizing when he caused a multi-person collision as other students walked into him and each other. "That-" A particular stray thought had him excited. "Mathematics and physics have an intimate relationship. Physics are what the scientists at the laboratory are exploring. And… while he was tt the laboratory, someone said-" That was it! He had his escape. All it would require was a visit to his school locker before the test! He felt much better now. But, the reptile brain did _not._

"_**H-e-l-p-!"**_

Sousuke spun around, surveying the hallway. Was there an attacking enemy? No. But, one girl was pointing at a boy. He had collapsed to the ground, having passed by the mathematics room, breathing in too deeply. She didn't know that. She feared that he was having a heart attack or severe respiratory distress.

"Help him! I think he needs CPR!"

The girl did not know CardioPulmonary Resuscitation. No one surrounding her in did, either. Sousuke did. That and more advanced methodology requiring equipment and medicines. He had trained himself as a field medic. But, he found himself in a bit of a quandry. Performing CPR would mean putting Kaname's mouth on the boy's mouth. It would also seem like he was kissing a boy. The former was far more devastating. He pictured Commander Mardukas's face and remembered his stark warnings. He also, for some reason, thought of Tessa, and her desire to perform CPR on him at poolside.

"I have a solution," Sousuke said, brain not functioning properly after his thoughts about that superior officer. "_This_ may work." He rushed to a nearby closet that held a deep sink and cleaning supplies. He would not bother the janitor. That fuming and fulminating man was busy enough as it was. "Here it is." He hurried back to the stricken boy.

"Please stand back," Sousuke said. "I am a specialist." When everyone complied, he placed the bell of the plunger he had borrowed over the mouth of the boy, and then moved the tool up and down in firm motions, as if he were unclogging a toilet.

*doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink*

"What are you doing!" The girl called out aghast.

"_Mrphl Grpyll Lrphlll_-" The boy had come too almost immediately.

"My job here is done," Sousuke said, pleased. In a moment of over-zealous pride. He flipped the plunger back into the closet, as if he were doing a bat flip after hitting a grand slam out of the park. "But I cannot stay for further care…."

Internal clock ticking, Sousuke rushed and made it to the door he was looking for. A plaque on the door read 'Jacob Ciocio, Guidance Councilor.' He knocked. A moment later he heard 'It's unlocked. Come in." He did so.

Stepping inside the small room, he noticed many things in short succession. Wood walls. Tiled floor. Large mahogany desk. Ornately carved chairs for guests. A large glass dome on the desk. Numerous shadow box frames on the wall, each ebony framed and covered with glass.

"That-"Sousuke said, pointing at the glass dome. It covered a small banzai tgree. Pinned to the trunk and bough were two exquisite looking butterflies. "That one is _Prepona praeneste_ sub-species _Buckleyana._ The stout black body and wings with large electric blue and orange areas are characteristic. The other is. _Papilio chikae_, the Luzon Peacock. With black wings sporting a peacock colored lower wing edge, the latter insect is prized by collectors, but more for the absolute rarity than for its comparative beauty."

"You know butterflies?" Mr Ciocio brightened immediately. At first, he had resembled Gollum with a bad toupee and slightly better dentition, crouched sullenly. Now, he transformed into an energetic and wizened small man who might frighten every baby who sees him. "How remarkable in this day and age. Then you will love to see _these."_ He swept his hand along the back wall. The framed enclosures each held one or two butterflies pinned to a white cork board.

"I-: Sousuke couldn't get a word in. Everything he knew about butterflies and moths came from reading the 'Nature' magazine he had borrowed from Kaname. Looking around the room, he saw an explorer's vest half covering a large glass bottle, the last five letters on the partially obscured label reading -OFORM. A tall red case stood in one corner, unzipped but its contents unseen. A pith helmet hung on one of two wall hooks situated behind the desk.

He knew the counselor was a collector. An adventurer, someone who likes to hunt his own insect prey, not purchase it on Ebay or in dark shadowy parlors and the dens of Black Market barbarians. Just the same, the gear he saw reminded him of Allied army's uniforms during the First World War, and he could imagine a long rifle sitting inside the case. He couldn't help but imagine the man as a hunter of men, even more than a hunter of animals. Silly, yes. But he couldn't shake it.

"I just love talking about butterflies," the counselor said. "Even as much as I love collecting them and looking at them." He ran his hand over the glass dome. "It's much easier than hunting stupid boorish mammals or the comical scaled reptiles and fishes. Birds I can almost get into; but the rest, no."

"I see," Sousuke said. What did any of this have to do with his reason to be here?

"After netting a butterfly in an aerial net, the best way to kill it is by pinching its thorax…the middle body segment… between your thumb and forefinger. This technique takes some practice to learn the proper pressure, but it will quickly stun the specimen and prevent it from damaging itself." Mr…. demonstrated the motions. "Try doing that with a wild boar or a lion! Hmmppff." He continued. "With its wings over its back, the butterfly specimen can then be slipped into an envelope or a paper triangle or envelope. Specimens can be kept in this condition indefinitely in a tight-fitting box with moth balls or other insecticide, until they are 'relaxed' for mounting. Alternatively, freshly collected specimens can be stored in a plastic bag in a freezer until they are mounted, eliminating the need to 'relax' the specimen before mounting."

"I have read that," Sousuke said. "Sir, the reason-" No better luck that time.

"After insects are dead, they become extremely brittle," the counselor rambled on. "However, dried specimens can always be relaxed and mounted in any desirable position. Relaxing chambers can be made from jars or plastic boxes. Place a piece of folded paper towel on the bottom and moisten it with water. To prevent mold from growing on specimens, add an antiseptic. In the closed container, high humidity will 'relax' the specimen over time… usually two days for small specimens and a week for larger ones."

"Having heard that, can we-" Sousuke fought the urge to fidget. Things were getting to him. He wasn't usually a fidgeter. Did some host body habits persist, separate from the mind?

"After relaxing the specimen, remove it from its envelope carefully," Mr. Ciocio said. "Holding the specimen by the thorax, force an insect pin through the middle of the thorax. The wings may be forced backwards in order to insert the pin far enough through the body. After pinning, it is helpful to force the wings down with forceps. This step makes the specimen easier to manipulate once it is positioned on the mounting board."

"Yes… of course… but-" Sousuke was tempted to fire a pistol into the ceiling. Alas, he was still unarmed. He listened for minutes about preparation of specimens and the creation of shadow boxes.

"I bet as a softball player you have strong arms," Mr. Ciocio remarked. "No doubt you would be very handy with a butterfly net. Always remember this: when trying to capture a butterfly with a net, move slowly until you are in range. Position the net under the insect, then swing your net upward and turn the handle so that the net flips over and the captured insect cannot escape. If you bring the net over the insect and down to the ground, raise the end of it so that the insect can fly to the closed top, then stick a container under the net and carefully move your butterfly down into it. Easy. Foolproof. Bitchin'."

"That is good to know, Sir… but… you called me here today for-" Sousuke struck out again. His W.A.R. was suffering. If he were fighting a campaign, his WAR would be declining quickly too.

"I'm sure you'll nearly wet yourself in envy, seeing these." The counselor had left his desk and was standing under his prized collection. "This is an-"

"Eastern Tiger Swallowtail," Sousuke answered unbidden.

"**Right!"** Mr. Ciocio exclaimed very good again. You truly are a young lady of remarkable talents." That had Sousuke biting Kaname's lip. He should have kept silent the whole time. But, too late now. If he won the man's favor, maybe he would stop and return to school business. "How about _this_ one?" The man pointed to another specimen.

"_Agrias amydon_, sub-species _Boliviensis_," Sousuke answred correctly again. One magazine article was dedicated to the top rare and endangered species.

"**Good!"** Mr. Ciocio said. "And this?"

"_Morpho godartii_," Sousuke correctly identified.

"And this… this… and this…" The counselor pointed at three case in a row.

"_Ornithoptera chimaera_. _Teinopalpus aureus_. _Bhutanitis lidderdalii_." Sousuke was correct with each one.

"I can't believe a girl your age is so adept at speciation. You must be one heck of a collector in the making. In the larval phase, so to speak." He laughed, a bit miffed that the girl did not join in. "Perhaps on my next expedition you would like to tag along?"

"Negative," Sousuke replied. It was not his duty to answer for Kaname. And personally, in a life so filled with death, he found himself siding with the insects. "Lepidoptery has changed with technology replacing the killing jar. The naturalists among us can sublimate any remaining desire for trophies with technology. Wildlife photography has become relatively easy. You can take better pictures of butterflies with a mobile phone than photographers once did with their Canons and Nikons. And butterflies can be replicated exactly on computer screens, magnified, and rotated to be viewed on every available axis. Collecting is wasteful. It's unnatural. And, butterflies need all of the help they can get."

"You-" Mr. Ciocio clenched his fists even tighter than he clenched his teeth. This time _he _couldn't get a word in.

"Pesticides. Habitat destruction. Increased numbers of animal predators." Sousuke struck a heroic pose, unaware he did so. All he needed was a classical music soundtrack to be a documentary, or a hip hop beat to be an edgy anime. "And what might be one of the most deadly threat today?" He waited for an answer. He was certain that a specialist would know.

"You… you-" The counselor looked as if he might swallow his tongue. He had missed his last three anger-management classes. That fact was clearly showing.

"**Avocados!"** Sousuke said. He had one foot up on a chair now. "That's right You heard correctly. Avocados. Avocados from Mexico." He sang that last part just like he had heard the jingle for a TV commercial. It sounded good in Kaname's voice. "Avocados have become an increasingly popular food in the America in recent years, as they've been both linked with health benefits and also aggressively marketed. But most of the avocados consumed in the US are grown in Mexico, and as demand rises, so does the incentive to deforest swathes of land and plant avocado trees instead of the pines that grow there. They're doing worse than killing a single insect senselessly here and there."

"You… you… you-: The counsellor had also been skipping anti-hypertensive medications, trying to save as much money as he could for his hobby. Also not the best idea.

"They are killing oyamel fir trees, the winter home for Monarch butterflies, which migrate from Canada, across the US, and come to rest in the Mexican province of Michoacan. The butterflies have been identified as so important, that the leaders of those three countries discussed them at a summit, deciding to plant special plants for the Monarch caterpillars to eat en route. See… mankind working together… to preserve the insects alive, not preserve them in a picture frame."

"You… you… you… you…." Mr Ciocio was twitching. He had also crumbled up and thrown away the prescriptions for anti-seizure meds a few days earlier.

"But it is not just butterflies that have been tactically terminated," Sousuke remarked. "There are strategic battles being fought across the world, even some aimed at mankind's closest relatives. Rampant destruction of rain forests for palm oil planting has resulted in massive deaths of orangutan in Borneo. At least nobody kills _them _and pins them to a board."

"**You-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-"**

The Guidance Counselor fumbled at the latch of his desk drawer. He pulled it open with a quick whoosh and a hard slam. Reaching inside, he caught Sousuke's attention. He moved in quick steps, looking inside the drawer, concerned that the man might be reaching for a firearm or a letter opener. He wasn't. The man had grabbed an inhaler and quickly made use of it. Eyes looking in the drawer, Sousuke caught sight of numerous cocoons.

The young soldier thought of 'Silence of the Lambs,' especially Buffalo Bill. He felt very exposed for a moment, as if he stood under a spotlight in a dark room, the whole world looking at him. Buffalo Bill was a serial killer who dressed in the skin of women, so he could transform himself into a woman in his mind's eye. Sousuke was dressed as a woman, in a way. Buffalo bill had a habit of putting cocoons of _Acherontia sty, the _Death Head Moth, down the throats of his victims before hiding them in bodies of water. Sousuke felt very much on edge. This was the type of situation when he jumped blindly to conclusions. Her stood by the bottle and exposed the label fully: 'CHLOROFORM'.

Sousuke was as guilty as most, taken in by myths propagated on television and the silver screen. In Mr. Ciocio's hands, the chloroform was used in killing jars to kill insects. He also used it in his home-made pesticides to eradicate invasive species, so that his favorite butterflies could thrive. He was not just a collector, he was a conservationist, _and_ a philanthropist, working tirelessly to save butterflies and moths worldwide. Collecting was a way to preserve species for the future, should any species go extinct. In movies, chloroform was used by villains, placed on rags and held across the mouth and nose of the hero or the next victim. Seconds later, and the poor unfortunate soul lay knocked out.

It does _not _work that way. Chloroform has indeed been used by a number of serial killers… as a poison. By itself, or mixed with other toxic substances, it has been put in food or added to beverages.

The substance, also known as trichloromethane, is a powerful anesthetic, used in surgeries starting in the nineteenth century. It works by inhalation. But… and it is a very big but…if you sneaked up on someone and pressed a damp, sweet-smelling cloth to their faces, you would get kicked in the guts. And probably not just once. Scientists estimate that it would probably take around five _minutes_ for an adult person to become unconscious from breathing though a cloth with chloroform on it.

"There was a book," Sousuke said, tensing up. "It was titled 'The Collector'." He had read excerpts in that Nature magazine. "By John Fowles, published in 1963. It is about a psychotic young man who collects butterflies but becomes more interested in a girl he fancies called Miranda Grey. He catches her with the chloroform he uses to snuff out the lives of his butterflies and imprisons her in his cellar. Then he-"

"_**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOO-OOOOOO-OOOOO-OOOO-OOO-OO-O-!"**_

The counselor put on his helmet. He slipped on his vest. He took a long pole out of the case and unfurled a tightly wrapped top. It was a huge butterfly net. "How did you find me out?!" Right answer, wrong solution. Mr. Ciocio was indeed a serial killer on the run, but he was a strangler, not a poisoner. A strangler who also had a love of knives. He had been hiding in plain sight at Jindai Municipal High School for more than twenty years. "It does not matter. You won't be telling anyone. You're a girl. This should be simple."

"You're not going to be wearing Kaname's skin!" Sousuke turned on his heals, ducked a net swipe, rolled, and opened the door. Just as the net hit the spot where he had been briefly standing, he bolted out into the hallway. "I have been called a pinhead before. That does _not_ mean I wish to be pinned!" Sliding sideways for a stretch, he kept his balance and started down the hallway. "Alert! Murderer! Run! Form a mob! Fight back!"

Everyone just stood there nonchalant and unconcerned. Even though it seemed as if Kaname Chidori was shouting, everyone had become numb and anesthetized by all of Sousuke Sagara's prior emergencies and catastrophes.

"I'll catch you my pretty," the counselor cackled, running bowlegged after Sousuke. "And your little dog too!" The 'Wizard of Oz' reference was lost on everyone there.

"Look, our heroine is in danger!" That tall slightly bearded boy was a member of the new Kaname Chidori Fanclub, their allegiance born during the fire and fury of his morning speech. "Stop that cad. You there… stop chasing our Kanamke…." Ten boys encircled Mr. Ciocio "Surrender, and we will take you in peacefully."

"Surrender my ass!"

The counselor rolled up the net, hooking part of it on a small nail at the top of the staff. What the boys didn't know… and were soon to find out the hard way… was that the man was a champion-level stick fighter. Stick-fighting encompasses a variety of martial arts that all use simple long slender, blunt, hand-held, generally wooden 'sticks' for fighting; such as a staff, cane, walking stick, baton or something similar. Some techniques can also be used with a sturdy umbrella or even a sword in its scabbard. "Bad boys must be taught a lesson. Good girls will wait their turn." He was more than fluent in Portugal's _jogo do pau_, the _juego del palo_ of the Canary Islands, France's _canne de combat__ or __la canne_, Poland's_palcaty_, and Italy's _scherma di bastone_. He was no slouch with Venezuela's _juego del garrote_, Brazil's _maculelê__,_ Trinidad's _calinda_and the South Americans' _Eskrima Kombat. _When he was younger, he also dabbled in kalaripayattu, a martial art of India.

Some of the boys were boxers. A couple were wrestlers. One was even proficient in Wing Chun, a traditional Southern Chinese wushu style also known as 'beautiful springtime'. None of that mattered one iota. A member of the kendo club thought he stood the best chance of all. He held a sasumata, a pole weapon once used by the samurai class and their retainers in feudal Japan. a modern version of the weapon is still occasionally used by the police and as a self-defense tool. These modern sasumata are often made of aluminum, with a blunt pronged-end instead of the sharpened blades and spikes found on their medieval counterparts. They have been marketed to schools due to a growing fear of classroom invasions, which has prompted many schools in Japan to keep sasumata available for teachers to protect themselves or students and to detain a potential threat until the authorities can arrive… that is, assuming that the intruder did _not_ have firearms.

"I do not have my shinai," the would-be hero said, thinking a man with a butterfly net wouldn't be much of a challenge. If he impressed a girl or two, maybe he could find a date to the prom. "But this borrowed tool should suffice." He tested its weight and nodded his head. "To mold the mind and body… to cultivate a vigorous spirit… and through correct and rigid training…."

"To strive for improvement in the art of Kendo.," Mr. Ciocio said with a shrug. "Yeh. I know. Been there, done that." He felt an urge to play with the presumptuous upstart, to show him shikake-waza and oji-waza that would leave him green with envy, or quivering in abject fear. But, he had to move quickly and be on his way.

During a stick fight, you only have four possible defensive options. Evasion. Deflection. Blocking. And striking. The expert fighter needed only concern himself with striking. He knew the cardinal rule. Keep your stick moving. That tenet is important for the following reasons: It prevents inertia from setting in during combat; it enhances the overall velocity of your strikes; it minimizes weapon telegraphing, especially prior to striking with your stick; it enhances your defensive reaction time; it minimizes your hand and digit exposure when fighting; it significantly enhances the offensive flow; It makes your assailant misjudge the range of your stick.

The boys misjudged everything. They could do nothing to impact the flow of battle. They could not even see the councilors blurred hands. They barely had time to feel pain before they slid into blackness. Even Sousuke would not want to fight that man if he were in his own battle-hardened body. 'Thanks Mithril. I will send you a Thank You Card for the no-weapon orders.' He had been gathering items while the boys served as a brief distraction. About to make a run for his locker, where he did store chemicals that can put someone to sleep quickly, he heard a gut curdling yell as something flashed into view. It was Tsubaki Issei.

"I will halt your evil deed right here right now, you blaggart!" He assumed a karate crouch and prepared to lash out. Two seconds later, he lay twitching on the floor, as if he was a frog who had been pithed.

"Damn." 'That man can move lightning quick', Sousuke thought. The net came down over his head. Through its openings, he could see his assailant pull out a long slender knife. He intended to keep the secret a secret , and then escape to another hidden location with a new vocation. _"Ahhh."_ There was a sound. A very distinctive sound. A chainsaw. **"Over here,"** he shouted. "We've cornered the man who booby-trapped the Mathematic classroom. It's Mr. Ciocio, the Guidance Counselor."

"What?" the counselor looked at the advancing janitor, fired-up chainsaw in hand. "Pleeeease." What could that geezer do? "Go home, Zenji. Go home and live another day. Feed another fish."

"That room stank!" Mr. Oonuki growled. "I had to fight down my own vomit." He didn't tell everything. He had vomited multiple times, a few times in parts of the room he had already cleansed. "There's a lunch room spill that still needs to be mopped up. Milk! You know what milk does when it sets too long!"

"Boo hoo hoo," Mr. Ciocio said. "I have to leave my precious collection behind. My beloved hobby. My conservationist dreams." Before he even finished speaking, he lashed out with his net staff.

_GrrrZip._

The chainsaw cut through the wood like butter.

"No matter, I am a master of fighting with two sticks." Mr. Ciocio struck twice.

_GrrrZip GrrrZip._

There were now four sticks, two still spinning on the floor.

"Look… keep it safe… there's a small caterpillar there." Sousuke was pointing at the Guidance Counselor's zipper.

"My peepee?" Mr. Ciocio looked down, uncertain whether he had remembered to zip his fly. He was relieved to find that his John Thomas was not poking out for everyone to see. Instead, one of his treasured caterpillars had somehow managed top crawl on him. "Now-" He was flying ass over teacups, not certain how it could have happened. He had not seen Sousuke holding his trusty plunger behind his back, or watched him sweep it low to flip his opponent. He hit the floor hard, sticks still in hand. Preparing to strike, he felt his eyes bulge and his naughty bits scream out in pain.

Sousuke struck repeated downward, handle side down, ramming the plunger stick into the prone man's groin again and again and again, deftly missing the oblivious caterpillar, who was going nowhere very slowly.

***DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK***

Sousuke kicked the sticks away when the moaning man let go of them and tried to get to his feet. Mr. Ciocio had lost any advantage he once had. Things were looking bleak. They soon looked a great deal more bleak.

"Want to use _this_, girlie?" Mr. Oonuki gunned Betty Lou.

"No thank you, Mr. Oonuki," Sousuke said, now stomping on the butterfly man's neck with his foot. Damn. He was giving everyone panty shots again. It couldn't be helped. "It takes a lot of work to clean a chain saw. You wouldn't want to jam any bone in there." He had done that before, in a chainsaw battle against Amalgam stooges.

"That's what I like to see these days," the custodian remarked. "A polite and sensible young woman. Come by any time you like. You can help me feed my new fish." The man grabbed the incapacitated councilor by one foot and pulled. The shoe came off. "Let me try that again." He did. The sock slipped off. _"Shit!"_ He grabbed the foot, tugging the crying man towards the school entrance. "Call the police," he called out to one timid teacher, her hair barely visible behind one doorframe. "Make it snappy, or I might do a puzzle in reverse!" That obtuse threat was not lost on the screaming Mr. Ciocio.

"Wh-Wh-" Tsubaki was sitting up. "Where am I. Did I win?" He stood. He looked over at Sousuke, and began scolding him. "Whoever you are girl, it was very stupid to fight a man with a staff. You should stick to putting on make-up and playing will dolls."

"I was running away-"Sousuke said.

"And it is pitiful to lose a fight against a mere guidance counselor and his froufrou butterfly net," Tsubaki said, looking for his glasses. "An idiot girl like you will never find a husband."

"I do not want a husband," Sousuke said, not able to explain why.

"That's good," Tsubaki said putting his glasses on. "That's _terrible!_ You're so beautiful. You must be a goddess in everything you do!" He struck a heroic pose. "Please tell me your name. That way I can die a happy man."

"Look closer," Misuki said, turning red in the face. She hated it when Tsubaki focused his attention on girls other than her. That would be _any_ girl, since she could not seem to win her never-ending struggle to gain his attention. "It's Kaname. Kaname Chidori. With black hair."

"No wonder I feel like I am falling in love all over again." Tsubaki practically had hearts for eyes. "So dazzling. The only girl I see!"

"I like you better with your glasses off," Sousuke said, on Kaname's behalf and his own.

"That means you like me," Tsubaki said. "I'm much better than that Sagara fellow. A bastard. A cheater. A thief. I will not let you steal him from me."

"Here, I will whisper in your ear." Sousuke felt creeped out. He did not want to whisper in a guy's ear. He whispered. "Sousuke Sagara is a part of me." Today that was very true. Oddly true, but very true just the same. "I will never let _you_ be a part of me." So true on different levels.

"That's enough for one day, Romeo," Mizuki said. She grabbed Tsubaki by the ear and dragged him away involuntarily. "Our time for photos is nearly there." She wouldn't have been successful if Tsubaki was glasses-off.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Souuske said with a sigh.

Next class was English. He felt the tension ebb, feeling a pleasant sense of peace come over him. He started whistling a tune. There was a bounce to his step.

That class was a place to take things easy.

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_Information was taken from 'Collecting and Preserving Butterflies, under the Bug Hunter heading at __agrilifeextension. tamu. edu_

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_**Author's comment**_:

_It's good to see Sousuke get a quality education. It's heart warming to see him interact with his classmates, all while avoiding the addition of any kind of burden to Kaname's life._

She asked for it.


	9. Chapter 9

**ENGLISH CLASS**

Sousuke found himself under siege the moment he entered the class room.

"_Ohhh-hh-h_ Kaname are you okay?!" That concerned wail came from Eri, who fought the urge to pat "Kaname' on the head or give her a motherly hug.

"We were so worried," Shiori said in a rush.' We heard that you were attacked by Mr. Ciocio and that he was some kind of pervert."

"No," Maya remarked. "He's not a pervert, he's a serial killer. You're lucky you made it out alive!"

"_Ohhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h_," That was Eri again. "It's worse than I thought. Do you need to go home?"

"That-" Sousuke suddenly brightened up some. There it was. His opportunity. He would not need to further employ his ninja arts in Japanese History class. "I-"

"Kaname's fine," Kyouko said, wondering why Kaname suddenly looked so sad. "She had a lot of help. Especially from the plumber's helper."

"You must mean the janitor," Sousuke said. "Yes, he was the hero this time."

"Nope." Kyouko shook her head.

"Huh?" Sousuke made a face. Not Mr. Oonuki? "Do you mean someone in that gang of boys?"

"Wrong," Kyouko said grinning. "None of them."

"It can't be Tsubaki Issei!" Sousuke folded Kaname's arms across her chest. "He was less than useless!"

"You're right," Kyouko agreed. "Ka-_naaa-aa-a-_may… plumber's helper… you know… the plunger."

"That's right!" Mayuko Uchida exclaimed. "I was there. Kaname was like a piston in an engine:

***doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink*"**

"No." Tomomi Isomura corrected. "It was more like this:

***DOINK *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK*"**

"And 'Owwwww-wwww-www-ww-w _Oooo-ooo-oo-oo_ Owowowowowowowowo _Pleee-ee-ease_ stop. Help. Me. Mommeeee-eee-ee-e…." Maya was breathless after all that.

The girls all laughed, even though it really wasn't a laughing matter. Still, they needed to find some way to regain their sense of security. It was one thing having Sousuke cause all sorts of mayhem. He wasn't mean-spirited or perverted. He wasn't evil.

"I thought I'd die when he caught you with that net!" Shiori added. She didn't mention the knife. She didn't want to think about that knife.

"I don't know why he wanted to catch you anyway," Shinji said, wanting to get in on the conversation. He didn't know many details; but, he felt the urge to tell a joke. Well, something that passed as a joke with him. "It's not like you're a butterfly. Well, you kind of looked like one before… you know… with the blue hair." He held his hands out on the sides of his head.

"Blue…." Someone else wanted to play the game. "That's it. He must have wanted to catch a Blue-Haired Booty!" That was Yoshionori Kodama, running a hand through his tight blonde perm. He brushed some dandruff off the shoulder of his bright red coat and squatted back on his chair, gangsta style. "That's a bird, you know." He didn't go to class all that often; that didn't mean he never learned anything. Eat_ that_ snobs!

"That's Blue-Footed Booby," Akemi Watanabe said, her long straight hair dyed blonde, too. "Dummy." She wore gyaru style clothing, but had tattoos and piercing one would only find on a yanki girl.

"Wrong," Noboru Nakanishi said, making a raspberry sound. That delinquent boy sported an orange perm. "In her case, it's Blue-Haired Boo-_bieee-ee-es."_ He wore a shiny green jacket adorned with gang kanji. He took out a candy bar, removed the wrapper, and tossed the trash on the floor. He took a huge bite and began chewing.

"Idiots," a third boy said with a deeper voice and a nastier attitude. It was Hisayaki Inagawa. Like the other two boys, he had a protuberant belly and chubby cheeks. He looked like someone who never said 'no' to seconds… and thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths, possibly sevenths. "It can't be _that_… her hair's black now… so she's just a Black-Haired Bozo." His hairdo was orange and enormous, shaped like something that Elvis Presley might have worn. He rocked a gold coat with blue arms. He had once respected one thing about Kaname. It was that blue hair. In that way, she wasn't just another cookie cutter or Xerox kind of Japanese girl. He looked over at Eri, blew his nose to the side, and asked "Are you going to teach, or not? If not, we're going to bounce."

"Yeh… bounce." Yoshinoru tried to act tough, echoing his leaders remark.

"Like a ball!" Noboru's sense of humor hadn't improved a lick.

After the chaos of World War II, Japanese society swung back to the country's stereotypical uniformity. Except for the _yanki_, who openly rejected the rigidity of societal norms. It was a youth sub-culture based on rebellion and embracing of class distinctions, not conformity and strict adherence to rigid social norms. The word yanki was not a corruption of the American 'yankee', but rather came from a slang Japanese word from the 70s and 80s.

Someone once wrote: 'Japan is to crazy what the Middle East is to oil… sitting on quantities that can supply the rest of the world for decades'. That was said in stark admiration. The nation can lay claim to a number of unsettling subcultures that have come under heavy fire from high expectations and stifling social codes of their fellow countrymen, and have responded by taking rebellion to lofty heights.

In addition to _yanki..._ who are the closest thing Japan has to white trash, and are famous for being loud, rude and refusing to take part in the strict manners of Japanese culture… there is _visual kei_, a term that represents both a music based on warmed-over 80s hair metal and an insane style of dress that both the bands and fans embrace with frightening gusto…_ gyaru_, young girls who dye their hair sickly shades of silver and blonde, get fake tans, and look to have put their make-up on with a trowel… _male hosts_, men who make their livings drinking with older women, go gyaruo style, and wear expensive clothes, oodles of cologne and sport Rod Stewart style haircuts…_ lolita_, with girls clad in petticoats, high-collared dresses, bonnets and wielding fluffy parasols, all sharing a love of women's fashions that died out before their grandmothers were born… and _dekotora_, a combination of the English words 'decoration' and 'truck', where truckers add amazingly elaborate spoilers, lights, boxes and murals to their rides, which aren't just amazing pieces of art, but are actually used to deliver goods..

"Like a ball," someone snickered, making fun of the one thug. He spoke too loudly.

"What are **you** looking at?!" Not liking to be ridiculed, Noboru kicked over his desk and took a demonstrative stance. He smirked when the other boy looked away. "What are _**any **_of you retarded Robots looking at?" He and his buddies despised conformists. Most people might look at him as trash, but at least he wasn't afraid to stand up and stand out. While Yanki youth attempt to project a hard-edged, criminal façade, most tend to be harmless, attention-seeking teens, some of whom spend less than a year in the lifestyle. But, these guys were hardcore, with true illegal aspirations.

Shiori whispered to Sousuke "How come they get to keep their hair like that." She swallowed hard and turned to face the front of the room when one troublemaker glare at her.

Sousuke could guess the answer. Someone was paid off. Or, someone was threatened with bodily harm. He felt the nascent urge to cause them bodily harm. Luckily it was the teacher's duty to maintain order, not his. Especially since his methods often backfired or left him holding the bag.

Eri tried to keep a calm look. Some yanki, like some dogs, probably could smell fear. Or so _she_ feared. The infamous truants weren't being truant today, and the Japanese 'everyone must have an equal chance at education' imperative was still in effect, just as authoritative as the Prime Directive in Star Trek. So, unless they did something serious, she could not ask them to leave.

"Right…" Eri started. "Today all of your assignments are due. Each of you was instructed to find something to read in American literature, and to report your impressions back to all of us."

"I hope there's something good," Shoko Goto said. Another sukeban, a leader of a girl gang like Akemi, she twirled her long blonde hair around her fingers. "Or we wasted our damn time." She was dressed like a Hime gyaru, with a pink skirt, and a lot of lace on her rose-patterned blouse A big red bow was clipped to her hair. Like her cohorts, she found certain American cultural periods to be badass.

Hisayuki and his followers had formed their own little enclave in the back corner of the class room. They didn't bring any books or school materials with them. Instead, the leader had a large haversack that he had opened. He was rummaging around inside that dirty blue bag now. Before long, he had made two stacks of large flat boxes, five boxes per pile.

Sousuke gave the five ruffians a quick eyeball, making certain that there was nothing overtly suspicious in that bag. He didn't see anything worrisome.

"I chose something by Edgar Allen Poe," Maya said."The Murders in the Rue Morgue."

"_Cool,"_ Shoko remarked, placing three folded pieces of chewing gum into her mouth. A story about murder might be worth hearing.

"It's a short story," Maya continued. "It was first published in Graham's Magazine in 1841. It has been described as the first modern detective story. It's my mother's favorite."

"Mothers," Akemi snorted. "Who fucking needs _them."_ She began etching a skull in her desk top with a nail file.

"My mother made these bancho boxes," Hisayuki said, handing two boxes to Yoshinori. He picked up another two for Noboru. "So I guess _you_ won't be wanting any. He called the bento boxes bancho boxes, since he considered himself to be the bancho of a large group o thugs. _Bancho_ refers to a leader of juvenile delinquents in middle and high schools. Banchō who rule several schools and have control of other banchō are called _sōban_, and in elementary schools and under, the term for banchō is _gakitaishō__._

"Your mom's alright," Akemi quickly said. Like three of the other yanki, she wasn't paying any attention to Maya, who had to speak louder than usual to be heard over the talking in the rear of the room.. Eri could live with that. The troublemakers were being relatively quiet. "But most families _suck!"_ She accepted two bentos, each box big enough to hold three or four lunches. Like her friends, she didn't worry about breakfast or lunch time; she ate when she felt like it.

"Yeh," Yoshinoru said. "They suck big time." The Japanese family is the cornerstone of the Japanese school program, and the school program was not something that the delinquents had much love for.

"I hardly know my fucking father," Akemi said. "He's never home, working all the fucking time." She opened her box and began shoveling rice into her mouth with a pair of chopsticks. _"Lrik evrthr fothrht rkng frthr,"_ she tried to enunciate, going for 'Like every other fucking father'. Shee sat on her chair in the _unko zuwari_ style, literally meaning 'shit sitting'. Yanki traditionally squat in a way that looks like they are trying to squeeze our a turd. That makes them look particularly disreputable.

Sousuke wasn't all that fond about of the subject of family. It was hard to grieve the loss of someone, when you never have a chance to meet them. But, it is very easy to feel a sense of emptiness when you see someone else enjoying something you never had. Emptiness, and exclusion.

"My mother works _really _hard." Noboru said, sitting on his chair in the same unko zuwari style. He ducked a small piece of sausage thrown at him by Akemi. The food had been artfully shaped to resemble an octopus. "But I don't want to put up with that shit!" His mother, like many in Japan, bore most of the responsibility for making certain her children did well in school. She drilled her children, read to them, and worked hard to supplement what they are taught in school. Sometimes she even attended their classes when they were sick, sitting in special large desks designed for mothers, so that her children wouldn't fall behind.

"She works really hard… on the milkman," Yoshinoru quipped. "The newspaper boy, too!" He took a rolled-up omelet piece straight between the eyes. "Asshole. She doesn't work hard for you. She probably just works hard for _herself_, just like my old hag. They both get blamed for the bad marks of their other kids, too."

"I got an 'Education Crazy Mother' too," Hisayuki said, holding his heavy box up and scooping large portions of food into his gaping maw. After swallowing, he added: "She studies… she packs these lunches… she waits in lines to register my brother for exams… and waits again in the hallways for hours while when my brother takes them. I mean, she even denies herself TV so that my brother can study in quiet… and she stirs noodles at 11:00pm for his stupid snack."

"My mom doesn't have a life either," Shoko said, finally turning her attention to food. She took the first of her two boxes and began to chow down. "I don't _ever_ want to be like that. The old lady knows all of the teachers… and has researched their backgrounds to find out how successful their previous students have been in passing exams. She carefully chooses my sisters' schools… and their juku… and has spent so many fricking hours accompanying them to classes. She even attends gymnastic, violin, and sumo wrestling classes with my youngest brother, so she can help him practice at home."

Sousuke took in the words of the yankii, not trying to be judgmental, despite their rough and uncouth behavior. He had dealt with fellow soldiers who were far rougher and a great deal more uncouth. Those things that they were dissing did not sound like terrible things. Not entirely, anyway. Sure, there was an element of obsession, and even personal pride. But wasn't there an element of caring, too?

"That's nothing," Noboru said. "My mother went with my oldest sister on her first day of University… and with my oldest brother to his first day of work after graduation. I mean, _shit!"_

"Hey… you bastard… your box is much better than ours," Yoshinori tried to sneak food out of one of Hisayuki's box. He fumbled the food, which nearly landed on a ornate official looking document sitting on top of an unoccupied desk.

"**Fuckwit!"** Hisayuki swore. The pompadour-haired boy pushed the paper aside, before backhanding Yoshinori across the face. He had to grab his bento box, before it slid off of his knee. He stuck his chopsticks up inside of the other thug's nose. "You better not spill anything on the Contract. And you better not mess up my bancho box." His box was extraordinarily organized, with fresh peas, boiled eggs, lotus roots, mint leaves, tomatoes, carrots, fruit salad, minced chicken, and seaweed, with food items cut into teddy bear shapes, made with fluffy white rice and a plumb in the middle to symbolize the rising sun on the Japanese flag. A sloppy lunch box is regarded as a sign of an uncaring mother.

The big-cheese yankii was like some other low level roughs. He had his eye on becoming yakusa someday, even though the mafia thought very little of most yanki, seeing them as improper and undisciplined. Despite that, he had managed to obtain the Contract, a promisory note from one mafia group to take him into the fold… if he maintained the right image… if he performed certain challenges… and _if_… the most important if… he still had that contract, signed in blood by the man who would be his big brothers in the criminal organization. He rolled up the parchment and slid it into his desk. That action had not gone unnoticed.

"You better _not _hit me again!" Yoshinori blurted out. He held his temper. Yankii did not disrespect their leaders. Just the same, he felt compelled to say "The guys in the bōsōzoku listen to me just as much as they listen to you!" He was speaking about a large tight knit gang… not yakusa… whose members rode tricked out motorcycles, cruising the suburban streets in large numbers very slowly, terrorizing neighborhoods and making a lot of noise with roaring engines and loud musical horns. They had a tendency to wave imperial Japanese flags, start fights, and generally make a nuisance of themselves. If anyone was disrespectful towards a gang member or that member's ride, the gang would attack them. The boys were friends with a gang like that.

"No they don't,' Noboru said, trying to curry favor with Hisayuki, and still a bit peeved over the boy's crude joke earlier. "Your hair's not as perfect as his." He pointed at the professionally painted pompadour.

"Shit," Hisayuki said. He wasn't averse to suck-ups. He wanted to eat his remaining bancho box in peace. "You shouldn't have said _that _word!"

"**Fuck!"** Akemi spat. _ "Perfect? _Did you say 'perfect', you prick? You know I hate that word!"

"Oh crap." Shoko closed her bento box in case stuff started flying.

Culturally speaking, Japan might be as close as you are going to get to a utopia on Earth, at the given moment. Then again, what utopia would have _karoshi_, 'death by work'? And, when imperfect beings strive for personal, political, economic and social perfection, they are doomed to fail. In some people's minds, there is much more harm caused by the striving than by the failing. And, great stress occurs when conformity collides with humankind's natural-born desire for autonomy, individual freedom, and choice.

"Why do **I **have to be perfect?" Akemi said. "Why does _everything_ have to be perfect?" She slapped her hand down hard on her desk. "What fucking good did it do my fucking mom to be perfect?!"

She wasn't a student of history. Her anger against the pursuit of perfection had nothing to do with the grand twentieth-century experiments in utopian socialist ideologies that manifested in Leninist and Stalinist Russia… Fascist Italy… and Nazi Germany… all large-scale attempts to achieve political, economic, social and even racial perfection, resulting in tens of millions of people murdered by their own states or killed in conflict with other states perceived to be blocking their road to paradise.

She was not feeling a need to compare Japanese society to bizarre experiments such as those conducted by Ilya Ivanov, whom Stalin had tasked in the 1920s with crossbreeding humans and apes in order to create 'a new invincible human being.' But, she unknowingly felt like Ivanov must have, when his failure to produce the man-ape hybrid caused Stalin to arrest him, imprison him, and exile him to Kazakhstan. She felt like a prisoner in her own homeland. Her bugbears and bugaboos were obvious of a personal nature.

To her, Japan was a dystopia, not a utopia. She was obsessed with dystopian stories like 'Walking Dead' and 'Mad Max.' She loved 'The Hunger Games' and any story where powerful elites violate ethical values, prompting the downtrodden protagonists to rebel. Watching dystopian movies and reading dystopian fiction might not have made her any angrier than she otherwise might have turned out to be; but, it did make it easier for her to justify her anger.

"But I guess _some_ people's moms help them have perfect lives," Akemi continued. More people were listening to her now than to Maya. "Like our perfect little princess there." She pointed to Kaname, got out of her seat, and walked towards the front. "Look at this hair. It's perfect now." She picked up the hair off of Kaname's body and let it fall back down again. "Just like her. Just like her mommy, I bet!"

Sousuke's fingers began trembling, just like KGB assassin Illya Nickovitch Kuryakin's fingers did in the 'Man from Uncle' movie.

"Kaname's mother died from cancer when she was younger," Kyouko said, at the same time Eri was telling Shiori to tell the class about her chosen work, 'Cry Me a River' by T. R. Pearson.

"Cry ME a fucking river," Akemi said. "So her mother had cancer. So she died. So _what?!"_ She looked particularly upset now. Her mother had died from leukemia when she was much younger. "A lot of people get cancer. A lot of people die from It. I bet her mother wanted to die because she became a fucking vegetable, and became that vegetable because she couldn't stand her fucking perfect little princess!"

"Yeh! That's right!" Noboru had a gigantic crush on Akemi. He'd do anything to get her attention, and to gain her good favor. "Cancer's no big deal!" He tried to think of something snappy to say. He couldn't, so he did the next best thing. "What's the difference between Chidori and her mother?" No one answered. "Her mother didn't beat cancer!" He felt his pulse rate quicken when Akemi nodded in his direction. " What does milk and a mom with cancer have in common?" He waited again. "An expiration date."

"You sick bastard," Yoshinori said. "Heh. Maybe you're not all bad like Hisayuki says. What was Chidori's mom's favorite Pixar movie." He didn't allow anyone the chance to spoil his punch line, immediately saying "Finding Chemo." He hurried to add another: "What's pink, yellow and has seventeen nipples?" He answered himself: "The trash can behind the cancer ward."

Students were mumbling amongst themselves, giving the yanki dirty stares. A number looked to Eri, expecting her to put an end to things. Eri looked conflicted. Would things get worse if she stepped in? Or, would things fizzle out if Kaname kept her cool. It was a good thing that Sousuke wasn't here now. Those toughs knew better than to even say 'Boo' to him.

"Is that the way I taught you guys to behave," Hisayuki said, sounding stern and disapproving. His eyes closed and his mouth widened in a great smile. "Damn. I'm a better teacher than the stick up there," he waved his arm towards Eri. "Or the stick the school shoved way up her ass." He saluted when Akime blew him a kiss. "What's the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?"

"The outside," Nobura blurted out, wanting to be first.

"Shut up," Yoshinori said, giving Akemi an 'OK' sign when she cuffed the other boy in the back of his neck. "The boss was talking."

"What's the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?" Hisayuki started over. "The wheelchair!"

"The boss is the best," Nobura said, trying to get back in Akemi's good graces.

"I'll never forget Chidori's mother's last words to her father before she died," Hisayuki said. "Dear, why are you holding the plug." He leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on his desk, as if challenging anyone to beat that last joke.

Sousuke was whispering to himself: "Keep your eye on the ball… keep your eye on the ball… keep your eye on the ball…." His arms were twitching now.

"'Where exactly are you taking me', Chidori's mother asked the doctor," Yoshinori accepted the challenge. "To the morgue', the doctor replied. 'What', Chidori's mother panicked. 'But I'm not dead yet'. The doctor said: 'And we're not there yet'."

"Shoko?" Akemi's look had the other girl knowing exactly what she expected.

"I-" Shoko tried to remember any joke that might make sense here. She didn't rally ant to be cruel, but gave into the peer pressure just the same."Chidori's dog died, so her father tried to cheer her up by getting her an identical one. That just made her more upset. She screamed at him, 'What am I supposed to do with _two_ dead dogs?'"

"And a dead mom!" That addition came courtesy of Hisayuki. "Can we hear a rimshot on the drum…." He folded his arms smugly across his chest when he heard the other four delinquents play their desk tops like a drumroll.

"At least the princess had a mom," Akemi smiled, thinking of another way to make Kaname Chidori upset. Female intuition told her that she might have a soft spot for Sousuke Sagara, even though she usually treated him like a red-haired stepson. "I bet you that Sousuke Sagara _never_ had a mom. I bet he was made in a petri dish!"

"Or a test tube," Hisayuki said, snapping his finger. "Sagara was probably a test tube baby." He might not be fond of school, but that didn't mean he was totally unlearned. He knew what _In vitro fertilization_ was. "But… instead of putting eggs and sperm in the tube… they shoved them down the barrel of a gun!"

"That makes sense," one non-yankii boy said. He winced when the girl behind him kicked him hard in the shin.

"Or his mother got raped by a tank!" Yoshinori stood up and took a bow.

Sousuke's legs began trembling. He especially disliked the subject of rape. He did not relish the idea of children born from sexual assault. And, while he never knew his mother, he did owe that woman his life. "Don't screw up… don't screw up… don't screw up… don't screw up…." Sousuke almost felt as if he were undergoing an out of body experience. He reached down, unlatched his school bag, and took out two items.

Shinji was not a brave boy, but he was Sousuke's friend. He was staring at the dastardly delinquents, wishing he could come up with some heroic speech to save the day. When the bancho reached into his large sack to get a bottle of soda, he pulled the zipper down to far. One item rolled out unexpectantly. Followed by a half dozen identical items.

"**Spray paint cans!"** The bespectacled boy pointed at black cans of spray paint, not knowing that they were the same type used to dye Kaname Chidori's hair. But, another girl knew. She had been the recipient of a dying herself.

"Wait!" A girl exclaimed, pointing. "Those cans! You stole them from that room. The room where they dyed our hair." That had everyone in the room looking in the direction the girl pointed.

_**Flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash flash**_

Kyouko kept punching the button on her smart phone, taking photos of the cans, the perpetrator, and his comrades. Her actions did not go over very well.

"Akemi, get that bitch's phone." Hisayuki wasn't joking any longer. If he was going to get the yakusa to honor the Contract, he would have to have to save face. Being chased by the police would actually be beneficial. But, he couldn't let that pig-tailed girl make him look like some bumbling would-be criminal. "If you actually rough her up too, it's _more _than okay." What he said next was not a request. Yanki _never _disobey their leaders. "Yoshinori, the four eyes. Noboru, the blabbermouth bitch. Teach them the benefit of keeping their fucking mouths shut."

All three yanki stood up to do as they were instructed. Akemi threw the remnant of her bento box at Kyouko as she went to collect a trophy. She undid a pen-knife, intending to relieve Kyouko of her pigtails. Yoshinori had a fistful of food that he intended to ram down Shinji's throat, before monkey-stomping the nerd. Noboru took a stapler out of his desk. He was a very literal kind of guy. If he stapled the girl's lips together, she would _have_ to keep her mouth shut.

"Let's not cause a fuss here," Sousuke said. "This is a classroom, not a playground." He had his two items palmed and unseen. "As the class rep, I will defuse the situation." He winced at that word; but, it was appropriate. "Kyouko… your phone… I will delete your pictures." He walked in the back of the room, passing in front of the seats holding the bento boxes and the big bag. He never slowed down, missed a step, or telegraphed his actions. To the five delinquents he said: "On behalf of your classmates, I will apologize." He knew the inner working of yankii and yakusa minds alike from previous experience. He knew just what buttons to push. "It would be a shame if anyone got hurt. It would also be a shame if someone spoke poorly of anyone's behavior…."

"To the police," Hisayuki snorted. "Oh, we're _soooo-oo-oo-o_ scared, aren't we guys."

"No," Solusuke said. "To Ren Mikihara. Do you know her?" He was certain that they must. Her father, Mikihara Kenji, also known as Kenji the Killer, is the leader of a local Yakuza gang called the Mikihara Gang. "I understand that she loves her father just as much as she loves her mother. After all, family is everything." The emphasis he put on that last word gave it a double meaning. 'Family' family, and 'mafia' family."

Sousuke had been doing his best to lay low. But, he had been viewing things through the prism of high school. That might be fine for his old and new mammal brains, but not for the lizard brain. Not one bit. Sousuke's reptile brain viewed things without a prsim, sticking with what it knew the most and knew the best. The military. The heap of human refuse they were dealing with here today reminded him of certain types of mercenary soldiers, the type of mercs that Sousuke hated the most. Unskilled, but also indiscriminate. Mean-spirited and sociopathic, taking their own problems out on the enemy and the innocents alike. Insulting to the men who footed their bills, making their own rules when they had the client over the barrel. Friendly fire. Cutting and running in the heat of battle. Leaving the job half done, and that half done poorly. Those type of men had cost him comrades. Dear comrades. These yanki yahoos were not going to add any new names to the casualty list. They had jumped on Godzilla's tail one too many time.

"So," Sousuke said after taking Kyouko's phone. "I suggest that our teacher gets back to teaching, and you guys get back to eating such… lovely… meals. _May_ I?" For effect, he took a rabbit-shaped morsel of rice, popped it into his mouth, and made a 'yummy' kind of noise. "Delicious." He then returned to his desk.

The delinquents kept quiet, secretly seething inside. The bill would come due someday. Kaname Chidori would pay. Now, they would simply enjoy their feast. They were all heavy eaters. Not just himself and the other two tubbies; but also the two girls, who would look fat if they ate more than a single grain of rice. They were all putting the food away at a professional pie-eater's pace.

"Thank you, Miss Chidori," Eri said. She called on the next student to present her work.

"I will be presenting my summary of 'Rain Fall', by Barry Eisler," Ena Saeki announced. As she began her report, Sousuke sat in a silent moment of soul searching.

'A specialist will use anything at hand,' the young soldier thought. 'Originality is not important; results are.' He scowled. The was such a thing as the Art of War. He should not be concerned about the artfulness of his solution. Bodily functions had produced noteworthy effects in Math class; however, the triggering of those reflexes was not entirely intentional... he had called down artillery, so to speak; but, he had given out inaccurate fire coordinates. This time, it was one hundred percent by design. And, it would be precisely on target. 'I have not utilized every available orifice,' he thought. 'There are still the nostrils.' He pictured an adversary sneezing up a storm, before shooting out sizeable streamers of snot. "No. _That _would be disgusting.'

_Blip blip blap blap blab blaaaa-aaa-aa-ap burrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-p burrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-rp_

The yanki all began burping, quietly at first, but becoming a growing chorus moment by moment.

"They sound like American bull frogs," Shinji said. The symbol of frog is 'return.' That fact was ironic, as time would soon show.

**Snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt… Snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt… Snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt… Snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt… Snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt…**

Hisayuki tried to speak. All that came out was 'snrrrr-rrr-rr-rt. Her belly felt as if a team of rugby payers had shrunken in size and were fighting a pitted match inside of his stomach.

Akemi had no more success than the bancho. 'Snrrr-rr-rt snrrr-rr-rt snrrr-rr-rt.' Her abdomen grew and shrank repeatedly, like an Alien chest burster had chosen to explode out of her navel.

Noboru was having issues of his own. He wasn't trying to talk. It was the other end of his body making noise for him:

_**frrt frrt frrt frrt frrt frrrr-rrr-rr-rt frrrr-rrr-rr-rt frrrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-rt **_

Before long, all five delinquents had swollen up, and were snorting loudly. Their eyes had grown a bit glassy and glazed. They held their bellies, not knowing that their food had been laced by another of Sousuke's ancient ninja medicines. The dose had been a bit high. He was still trying to titrate the drug, having only used it one other time, on a raid against revolutionaries who had been stealing all of a poor village's food.

"No… it's pigs," Shinji corrected his early observation. "I think they sound like pigs." He smiled. He couldn't help but feel the five were somehow getting a what they deserved. How might it have happened? Maybe bad food?

"They sure do," Mayuko agreed. "I wish they could have waited for a bit longer. I am going to present my assignment today. Excerpts from 'The Oddysey.' My favorite part is when the enchantress Circe turned most of Oddyseus's crew into swine."

"It's just like a scene from 'Willow'," Shiori remarked. "When Bavmorda turned Willow Ufgood, Madmartigan, and Airk's army into pigs."

"And 'Spirited Away'," Kyouko said. "Remember? Chihiro's parents crossed over into the fantasy world with her, and turned into hogs after eating food from the deserted stall."

Other students piped up, feeling sufficiently brave enough now to offer their opinions. They agreed that the ruffians were fat like pigs. Some thought they smelled like pigs. One even felt emboldened enough to say they probably wallowed in shit like pigs. The more people who spoke up, the bolder the rest of them felt. They were thinking about the moment, not the rest of the day or some time net week. It might not be the best idea to smack a hornet's nest with a stick. One man might be a coward, but a mob might be brave. Then again, there's a saying that says that a person may be smart, but people are stupid.

"_Snnnn-rrrr-tttt."_ Yoshinoru swore revenge. There would be a reckoning. The motorcycle gang owed him a favor.

"Look!" Maya pointed at Shoko. "Her nose is turning blue."

"No," Tomomi observed. "Her whole face. And it's not just her." All five of the afflicted yanki were turn a purplish shade of blue. It reminded her of a different movie. "Violet… you're turning _violet_, Violet!" 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.' She wasn't the only one fond of that film.

"She's blowing up like a balloon," one boy said.

"Like a blueberry!" A girl chortled.

"Stick her with a pin," Shiori said. "She'll pop!"

"We should roll her down to the juicing room at once," Shinji said, trying his best to sound like Gene Wilder. "She has to be squeezed immediately before she explodes." The last word was a fine bit of foreshadowing.

Eri opened her mouth to steer the class back on track. But, she too was fond of that movie, even though she was not a big fan of the more recent Johnny Depp version. As a teacher, she felt ashamed of herself. As a person, she felt that this was just desserts, no pun intended.

"_Oompa Loompa doom pa dee doo_," Tomomi began. "I've got another puzzle for you." Sure, that cautionary song was originally aimed at Augustus Gloop, not Violet Beauregarde. But, no one was going to cry foul.

"_Oompa Loompa doom pa da dee_," Maya continued. "If you are wise you will listen to me."

"What do you get when you guzzle down sweets?" Tomomi had mad vocal skills.

"Eating as much as an elephant eats." Maya was no slouch herself.

"What are you doing getting terribly fat." Shinji shouldn't sing under any circumstance.

"What do you think about that?" Tomomi and Maya spoke at the same time.

**"I don't like the look of it!"** Eri wasn't just finishing the song. She had gone pale, looking at what she thought might be a medical emergency. The delinquent's clothing was testing the strength of their buttons, as their girth had grown to a gargantuan extreme.

Receptors on the floor of the fourth ventricle of the brain represent a chemoreceptor trigger zone, known as the _area postrema_, stimulation of which can lead to vomiting. There are various sources of input to the vomiting center: the vestibular system; cranial nerve X; the vagal and enteric nervous system; and areas of the central nervous system that mediate vomiting that arises from psychiatric disorders and stress from higher brain centers. The drug the yanki had gobbled down in such gluttonous fashion touched on three of them directly, and one indirectly.

"**FIRE IN THE **_**H-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-!-!-!"**_

That was Sousuke calling out, his instinct and experience taking over. He quickly reached into Kaname's school bag… removed a full-length parka… and slid it on.

Anyone who has seen 'Monty Python's Meaning of Life' would have felt a sense of déjà vu if they had been in that room now. Mr. Creosote, the enormously obese and remarkably rude diner at a fancy French restaurant, put on a gross but comical scene never before seen in the annals of film. A Maître d' said to him: 'Ah, good afternoon, sir; and how are we today?' Mr. Creosote answered: 'Better.' The Maître d' asked: 'Better?' And Mr. Creosote: 'Better get a bucket, I'm gonna throw up.' And that he did. In spectacular fashion.

Shoko was looking at Hisayuki when a geyser-like gush of projectile vomit exploded from his mouth, drenching Yoshinoro from head to toe. She in turn was blasted with stomach contents by Akemi, who was too slow to dodge Yoshinoro's vomitus. Noboru felt fortunate, uncomfortably bloated, but still dry and clean. That was short-lived. Powerful stream of puke struck him from each of his four fountaining friends.

"This is great!" Shinji spoke too soon. When Yoshinoro looked at him, he fired off another burst, striking the other boy square in the face, covering him, his desk, and a long straight line of floor tiles with chunks and fluid. A number of other students suffered a similar fate.

"**Duck and cover!"** Eri had seen some old class room teaching films from the U.S., made during the early stages of the Cold War. The students didn't know the context; but, they were quick learners. They jumped under their own desks, or whichever one was easiest to take shelter under.

"But-" One girl aimed for the same shelter as another girl. She was bowled over by a particularly strong blast of barf. She and a number of other students around her began throwing up as a result. It was a chain reaction.

"_N-N-N-Not_ th-th-the C-Contract…." Hisayuki yelled out, managing to speak again. He used a bento box to block the opening of his desk, just a moment before Akemi flooded the area with her last jet of vomit. "Whew! _Th-th-that_ was close." When he moved to protect his treasure, he did not notice the small red cylindrical object stuck onto it.

Sousuke had avoided the vomit. He hadn't been worried about that. His reflexes were good enough. He could have dodged anything coming his way. No, the poncho served another purpose. It was precautionary. He activated an app on his phone and pushed a button. A high intensity flare he tossed inside the self-styled bancho's desk lit up. The beloved parchment caught fire, burning rapidly, setting the desk on fire, too.

_Wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi-wishi_

The rather robust sprinkler system kicked in. An immense torrent of water began falling from the ceiling area, drenching everyone and everything. Like dishes in a dishwasher or cars in a car wash, the students were rinsed clean by the drastic deluge.

"**Listen up!**' Eri called out. "Just like a Fire Drill. Everybody grab what you can and head outside!" She looked over at Kaname Chidori. The girl was sitting at her desk calmly, like nothing was happening.

Talk about resourceful. That girl was ready for anything.

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_Information was taken from'6 Japanese Subcultures That Are Insane (Even for Japan)' __from , __and other Google searches._

_Check out Mr. Creosote on YouTube. The full scene. You will never be the same again._

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**ENGLISH REDUX**

Standing outside dripping, Eri sent one boy inside to grab a hamper of towels.

While everyone waited for their fellow student to roll that hamper outside, the teacher told her class that they would remain outside. No sense in getting the school hallways all wet. What better place to dry off than outside on a sunny day?

Inspired by the nightmare scene they had lived through, a group of boys were being boys, of course.

"Damn," a boy said. "I bought some fake vomit the other day. I thought that I could use it to freak the teacher out some day. What a waste. The joke's on me."

That one word spurred a friend to tell a joke. "Two drunks are laying on the floor, and one of them is sticking a finger in and out of the other drunk's ass. When a cop walks by and looks at the drunks, he says, 'What the hell are you two doing?' The first drunk replies, 'Oh, I'm just helping my friend vomit.' So the cop says, 'Do you think I'm stupid? Sticking your finger in his ass is no way to make your friend vomit.' 'Just wait until I stick it in his mouth,' replies the drunk."

"That's sick," another boy said. "I _love_ it!"

"I got one! I got one!" A third boy said "A drunk walks into a bar, orders a shot and immediately pukes all over his own shirt. 'Wha' my gonna do now? My wifez gonna kill me.' 'Relax,' the bartender says, 'give me a five-dollar bill., The bartender folds up the bill and puts it in the guy's shirt pocket. 'Tell your wife some drunk puked on you and gave you five bucks to have your shirt cleaned.' 'That's a great idea!' When the drunk gets home his wife answers the door. 'Where have you been? What happened to your shirt?' He tries to put on a sober voice and says, 'Relaaax honey, some drunk guy puked on me and gave me five bucks to have my shirt cleaned.' The drunk's wife reaches in his pocket, grabs the money, and says, 'There's ten dollars in here!' 'Oh yeah, he shit my pants, too'."

"Gross, man." The one boy said. "Perfect!"

"How about this one," another wannabe comedian tossed out. "A cannibal vomits after his meal. You really can't keep a good man down."

"A drunk guy gets into a taxi," one boy said, not to be outdone. "He says 'Ehh.. 'scuse me, driver... would it be okay if.. I put a few beers, some fried chicken, two tequila shots and some rice on your back seat?' The confused driver says' Ehm… well…okay.' Then-" He made a loud retching noise.

Sousuke listen to the _other_ boys joking. Well, he was still a boy at mind. Hearing them laugh, he felt a bit self-conscious. Even though he had been around a lot of jokers in his life, those who told jokes and others who _were_ jokes, he had never really gotten into jokes. 'I have researched humor,' he thought, 'because I wonder why I never find anything funny'. He wondered if he was really missing out on something important in life. He thought about the personal and social functions of humor.

Humor is a relatively safe way to express taboos, especially one related to sex and aggression. Telling those types of jokes are natural needs for some people, and cannot be suppressed; so, jokes are a safe way to get those needs out of one's system. People use satire and other forms of humor to make fun of people in authority, like parents, politicians, the police, and teachers. But because political correctness has made certain groups into sacred cows too, they also became the target of jokes, as women, minorities, homosexuals, and disabled people have had the displeasure to discover. Humor is also an important tool in social cohesion, a way of sharing problems and experiences with like people, or a way to keep group members in line, toeing the line with group norms. Humor directed against things which frighten us helps us that fear under control and render those things less menacing. Intellectual humor allows people to escape the bounds of reality, and to indulge their capacity for originality and creativity, all while freeing them from the prison of logic and conformity.

Sousuke had never really felt the urge to tell jokes; but, he also never felt any need to grow close to another human being. They were, like he was, a function of whatever system he found himself in, and didn't see the logic in forming feelings of friendship for someone who might end up in a casket draped with a flag the next day. But, that had begun to change since he came to Jindai. That change had accelerated since he had been in this body. It was strange. The more that people were friendly with him, the more he found himself yearning for friendship. Was that a good thing? He could be sent back to the world of blood and body bags at any moment.

'Can I even_ tell_ jokes,' he asked himself, thinking himself lacking in cleverness. But, he did not have to invent the joke… he could simply repeat it. That was similar to using weapons, without ever being involved in their manufacture. And, he had not started off as an expert with guns, knives, or Arm Slaves. A number of people in his life had tried to explain jokes to him. He was pleasantly surprised that he remembered a lot of what he had been told, wanting to think about that subject seemingly for the first time.

'A good joke pleases everyone,' a long dead soldier had told him once before a mucked-up mission. 'Telling a joke is one of the best ways to ease tension, make a new friend, or light up a room…_if _you can get a laugh. Telling good jokes is comes naturally to some people… for others it takes practice and hard work.'

'You have to know your audience,' Kurz had told him, after a joke had earned him a punch from a pretty but proper nurse. 'You have to suit everything to your audience. Length of the joke. Subject matter. The way you tell the joke. What's funny to one group of people may not be funny to another group. Some people love or hate crude jokes; misogynist jokes; racist jokes; or jokes that go over their heads. Right, and jokes that talk about things they don't know anything about.'

'It's important to choose great material,' a cook at Merida island once said. Sousuke wished that man would be able to choose better cooking material. 'The gist of each joke is directed towards some target. And, you will aim the joke at _your_ chosen target, a person or group of people. You need to pick the right joke for the targeted audience.' That was a lot of targets. The man had been an ace sniper before his eyesight went bad.

'Think of mission planning,' Lieutenant Commander Kalinin had once told him. 'The set-up for the joke should be realistic… but it should _also_ be exaggerated. That opening of the joke should have a basis in the real world so that your audience can relate to it… but; it should also have some exaggeration about it, because this is what gives a joke its humorous edge. The bread and butter of battle planning is what brings troops safely home. The grand flourishes can bring great victory, or crushing defeat. I recommend the former.'

'Punchlines are the key,' Mao had told him once, while she was pounding the hell out of a heavy bag in DaDanaan's small exercise cabin. She rarely told jokes, showing her sense of humor in proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed. 'It's best when it's a surprise. Just like a kick to the coconuts. The ending of the joke is where the payoff comes in, what makes the joke succeed or fail. Some jokes have an additional punchline that plays of the original punchline, sometimes twisting back on it in a surprising way. Like grabbing a nutsack and twisting it until it almost snaps off.'

'When you get comfortable telling jokes.,' he once overheard Commander Mardukas telling a mechanic in the TDD-1's hangar area. It was amazing he allowed himself to remember anything _that_ man had said on the subject of humor. That was the last man he ever expected to tell a joke. 'Make the joke your own. Lots of jokes rehash the same ground and sometimes they retell a story countless other jokes have told. For your joke to be funny, it is sometimes best to surprise the audience in some way, making the joke seem original or new. Sometimes, tailoring a joke to your own special life experiences can help do that.' He had to admit, the senior officer was rarely ever wrong.

He had heard other things from other people. Practicing rhythm. Relaxing and acting confident. Varying speed and tenor of the voice. Pausing before the punchline Telling your joke with a smile, not with a laugh. Just like there were many ways to approach a strafing run, there were many ways to tell jokes.

His thoughts on humor came to an end, when Eri called everyone to attention. She told the class that there was an opportunity to finish the day's assignment, even with most everyone standing there in a dripping huddle. Everyone except the five yanki, who had made a beeline for the street out front of the school. One was holding a dry cell phone. Though faint now, a growing roar of motorcycles could be heard.

"Kaname, what literature did _you_ choose?" Eri said.

"Uhhh." Sousuke didn't know the answer to that. What had Kaname chosen? It didn't really matter, right? Kaname wasn't here. Only her body was here. "I-" Sousuke hadn't done the assignment. He hadn't been in class the day it was handed out. "You see…." What could he _do?_

Inspiration came from a number of sources. One of the magazines he had read the night before was 'Reader's Digest'. A recurring theme for the past couple of days was jokes. Jokes by the scientists. Jokes on the flight to DaDanaan. Jokes about hair color. Jokes about cancer. And, jokes about vomit. He had also given serious thoughts to the overall subject of humor just a short while before.

"I read Reader's Digest," Sousuke said. The jokes on the helicopter were annoying. The jokes on the TDD-1 were embarrassing. The jokes about Kaname's mother were infuriating. The magazine had something better than all of that. It had jokes that some people found amusing. Kaname had drawn stars next to some of the ones in that publication. "A publication caught my attention when I read about various holidays in America which have been adopted in this country. Some long ago, and some just recently." Not by coincidence, the 'Humor' portion of the magazine followed suit by providing holiday-based jokes amongst the usual fare..

"But-" Eri looked puzzled. The assignment was about notable novels or literary works. But, this was Kaname Chidori. Her choice had to be good, right?

Sousuke began by spraying his target audience rapid fire, in a rush to get things out. He had looked at Kaname's watch. There wasn't too much time left in class. If he could stall long enough with this strategy, he could put things on hold until Kaname was back in class. Hopefully tomorrow. "Question: Are any Halloween monsters good at math? Answer: No…. unless you Count Dracula! Question: How do vampires start their letters? Answer: 'Tomb it may concern…' Question: What is Easter Bunny's favorite kind of music? Answer: Hip-hop, of course! Question: What's the Easter Bunny's favorite restaurant? Answer: IHOP! Question: Why are bunnies the luckiest animals? Answer: Because they each have four rabbit's feet."

The students all looked at each other. If the day's events hadn't been strange enough. What was Kaname doing? They had all done work on literary masterpieces or modern novels of note. She was telling jokes. Corny jokes. Literally:

"Question: What has a thousand ears but cannot hear a thing," Sousuke continued. "Answer: a cornfield." He heard someone groan. He paused a moment and took a step back. No one was going to begin the vomit cascade again, were they? He'd shorten things a bit. That was he could get more rounds on target. "Why aren't dogs good dancers? Because they have two left feet! How do dog catchers get paid? By the pound! What do chemists' dogs do with their bones? They barium! Never trust math teachers who use graph paper. They're always plotting something."

The students were groaning, but some had smiles on their faces. Eri just stood with her face in her hands.

"Why didn't the sun go to college?" Sousuke used the looks on the other student's face the way he would use tracers. "Because it already had a million degrees!" He was hitting the target. If only he could hit Ms. Kagurazaka, his mission might succeed. "Why couldn't the astronaut book a room on the moon? It was full! What do you call someone who can't stick with a diet? A desserter. 'I would like vitamins for my son,' a mother said. 'Vitamin A, B or C?' the pharmacist asked. 'It doesn't matter,' the mother replied. 'He can't read yet'."

"**Shit!"** Ono-D tried to sound desultory. He failed.

"That one was good!" Shinji chuckled.

"My girlfriend walked out on me for being too old fashioned," Sousuke resumed. "I thought we had good alchemy." He still hadn't figured that one out; but, his classmates probably would. "My wife always prefers the stairs, whereas I always like to take the elevator. I guess we are raised differently." He got that one. "What kind of dog chases anything red? A Bulldog. How are a dog and a marine biologist alike? One wags a tail and the other tags a whale. What do you get when you cross a dog and a calculator? A friend you can count on. What does my dog and my phone have in common? They both have collar I.D."

"Oh Kaname," Kyouko said, sighing. She couldn't help feeling a bit cheery, though.

"You go girl," Maya said.

"What did one math book say to the other? Don't bother me I've got my own problems!" Sousuke had gotten off the landing craft and into the water. He was getting close to the beach. The teacher had her face out of her hands. There was a quizzical look on that face. Here's a teacher joke then. Maybe that would personalize things for her. "The teacher said: 'Why are you doing your multiplication on the floor?' The student answered: 'You told me not to use tables'. What kind of music are balloons afraid of? Pop Music. Me and my friends are in a band called 'Duvet'. We're a cover band. What does a ghost call his mom and dad? His transparents." Sousuke stretched his brain to the limit, trying to remember what he had read. "Him: 'I love you'. Her: 'Is that you or the wine talking?' Him: 'It's me talking to the wine.' What's a nymphomaniac? A woman as obsessed with sex as the average man. What is the biggest lie in the entire universe? 'I have read and agree to the Terms & Conditions'."

"This sure as shit beats Shakespeare," one boy said.

"Tell me about it!" A girl agreed.

"Do you know what's ironic about Alcoholics Anonymous?" Sousuke asked everyone. "The founder of AA asked for whiskey on his deathbed. And how about this! In a hilarious example of irony, a McDonalds' employee health page, which is now shut down, once warned against eating McDonald's burgers and fries."

"_Oooo-ooo-oo-oh."_ Shiori moaned. "I don't want to think about food now."

"A pile of vomit walks into a bar," Ono-D said, a snarky look on his face. "'What's wrong', the barkeep asked."

"I know this one!" Shinji stole his friends thunder. "The vomit says: 'Sorry to be all sentimental, but this is where I was brought up'." He grimaced when Onodera kicked him in the seat of his pants.

"This is _my_ project," Sousuke said sharply. If things got out of hand he might be expected to supply a serious subject matter. "Speaking of holidays. Every year the American channel ABC cuts down '_A Charlie Brown Christmas'… _a movie about the over-commercialization of the holiday… to make room for more commercials Do you know what's ironic about Julius Caesar? The site where he was murdered in 44 BC is now a no-kill animal shelter for homeless cats. Do you know what's ironic about a man who survived going over Niagara Falls? The first man to survive going over Niagara Falls in a barrel died after slipping on an orange peel. Here's a great one. What's ironic about the inventor of Liquid Paper? She was fired from her secretarial job for failing to white-out a mistake. What's ironic about Q-tips? Even though they are bought primarily to clean inside ears, they are sold in boxes that expressly warn: 'Do not insert inside the ear canal'."

"Okay…" Eri was smiling. Not because of the jokes, but because she was amazed once again by Kaname Chidori. If only the Black Sheep of the class, Sousuke Sagara, could be more like her. She had found a way to raise all of her fellow student's spirits, after a very harrowing experience. But, she herself had a duty to enforce some kind or order. "That was all very amusing Kaname. How about your_ real_ assignment?"

Sousuke peaked at the watch again. Good. He had made it. "It's about the commercialization of fairy tales and folklore. The specific comparison is between the Disney movie 'Pinnochio', and the original children's novel 'The Adventures of Pinocchio' written in 1883 by Italian writer Carlo Collodi. The original story was not English, but the version I read was _in_ English." The warning bell sounded through the outside speakers. It was time to move on. As luck had it, the boy returned with the hamper of towels. He had brought a hair-drier along, too. He was well meaning, if not too clever. He hadn't brought a thirty-yard long extension cord. "That is too bad," Sousuke said. "It would have been instructive." He knew that tomorrow's assignment was something totally different."

"That's alright," Eri said. "I think I will repeat this assignment same day next week, since it was penciled-in as a subject solely of my choice. You'll be fist up. Since I really like your subject choice, you'll get double the time."

Sousuke just stood there, mouth moving like that of a fish out of water. Next week he would be Sousuke again, and Kaname would be Kaname. That meant that _she_ would have to do the assignment. He might get hung from a tree like the original puppet!

The sound of revving engines was much louder now. It was made up by the sound of dozens of tricked out motorcycles. Stepping just behind a tree so no one could see what he was doing, he took a small collapsible spyglass out of his pocket and surveyed the gathering down the hill. It was the _bōsōzoku_. And, the five soaking wet delinquents were standing there talking with them in animated fashion. They kept pointing at the school building.

"It _is_ a problem," Sousuke said, watching as his classmates headed inside. He had no weapons. He couldn't use them, even if he did have them. "Wait! A weapon! And the will to use it!" There was a chance. He would check things out. If luck was on his slide, he may have come up with the solution. He ran towards the side of the school, hoping to see a particular person standing at a specific site. Crouching behind a row of tall and stout bushes, he pushed a couple apart and peered beyond them. "Asset sighted!"

"Here you go, Buttercup." Mr. Oonuki was throwing pellets of fish food into a pond walled off by stones. "Some for you too, Blossom. And you Bubbles. I haven't forgot you Mojo, or you Jojo." He was speaking to his prized koi. "Daddy's had a bad day today. I had to clean a lot of shit up… literally. And Betty Lou had to cut a maniac down to size. But at least I can take things easy for a while."

"_Nnnn nnnn-nnn-nn-n_." Sousuke purposely cleared his voice very loudly.

"Who's there?" The custodian turned to stare at the bushes.

I must keep my identity secret." Sousuke said. "Call me Deep Throat." He disguised his voice as best he could, trying to speak as low as he could. He was referring to Mark Felt, one-time Associate Director of the FBI, who had acted as an anonymous source in the Watergate scandal. He was _not_ referring to the 70s pornographic movie 'Deep Throat'.

"Well…" Mr. Oonuki put the top on his fish food cannister. The look on his face said clearly that someone would pay for the interruption of his family time. "Why are you looking for _me,_ Mister Throat?"

"Because I respect you highly," Sousuke said. "And I know how difficult you job is." He was laying it on thick, but the man's posture suggested that he was taking it all in. "There has been another tragedy. One worse than the monstrous mess in Mathematics class."

"**What?"** The janitor pulled an imaginary rip cord, and held an imaginary chainsaw. The real one was not too far away. _"How?"_ His face was clouding over. "Who?" His smile was a frightening sight. Even Gauron would have been taken aback, if he were still among the living.

"Vomit everywhere," Sousuke reported. "More than anyone has _ever _seen before." He readied the verbal knife. "Some of it roasted by the fire damage."

"Vomit!" Mr. Oonuki looked ready to explode himself. "Fire damage!" The fire in class was cool in comparison to the man's growing rage. "Tell… me… names…"

"I can do better than that," Sousuke said amiably. "I can show you where to find them. Listen. Hear that racket. That is the five yanki, meeting with their cronies in the _bōsōzoku. _The perpetrators were all laughing, calling it a great gag, a historic happening, a way to stick it to the Man." He paused, sticking the knife in deeper. "But I think they chose the wrong man." That ought to do it. Now, to aim the enraged bull at the right china shop. "They knew that no one can touch them. No one can make them pay for their transgressions. It would take an army."

"I have an army," the janitor said in a voice that even made Sousuke feel frightened. "An army of two." A chainsaw fired up. "Time to go chop up some sushi!" He cursed. "Sorry girls, I didn't mean you." Fish finally reassured, he shambled down the hill, headed towards the noisy crowded street.

Sousuke took out the spyglass again. He had expected some order of mayhem, but not as much as he soon witnessed. People in a _bōsōzoku_ do _not_ like their bikes to be touched, not even in the teensiest weensiest way. Mr. Oonuki did a great deal more than touch them. And soon, as luck would have it, things would multiply, many times over.

"She's like a bad penny," Sousuke said. "She always comes back."

Wakana rushed into the melee, riding the same bicycle that Sousuke had set aside before entering the school. Not too far behind her, a number of firearms precariously perched in her lap, Rebecca rolled up in her wheel chair, a large belt of grenades slung over one shoulder.

That was one monstrous team. It was as if Freddy had teamed up with Jason, instead of fighting against him.

"My work is here is done," Sousuke said, heading back inside.

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_Material was taken from 'The 5 Functions of Humor (Psychology of Humor)' on unbounded __ and '__How to Tell a Joke' on WikiHow_

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**PREP TIME**

Kaname Chidori is a very busy young woman.

Yes, today, working in a far out laboratory with even more far out personnel, she had her hands full.

But, it was more than that, as Sousuke found out yet again. There was a project that Kaname had worked diligently on, which was coming into fruition now. The strange visitors to the high school gave good evidence of that.

"This-" Sousuke had doffed his poncho, and was content that there would be no further trouble that day from crazy police officers, wacky janitors, problematic yanki, or brazen biker gangs. The aforementioned combatants were keeping each other busy, and things did not look too promising for the bad guys. "Why-"

One of Tokyo's… no, _many_ of Japan's… numerous _yuru-kyara_ squeezed past the young mercenary on it's way to who knows where. It was Kumamon, a mascot created by the government of Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan. The five foot tall bear with black glossy fur, circular red cheeks and wide, staring eyes was soon joined by Domo-kun, the official mascot of Japan's public broadcaster NHK. The large square brown creature had an open saw-toothed mouth and stubby arms. After a few more seconds went by, a whole line of yuru-kyara came shuffling into the building, some carrying signs about fighting cancer, and others carrying bags of T-shirts and adorable plushies.

"Hello," a mascot shaped like a pink fig-shaped penguin with an enema head said. It was Kan-chan, the mascot for a medical company that make fig-based laxatives and enemas. "Have you seen Kaname Chidori?" He was only the first mascot to ask that question. In succession, Sousuke was accosted by Fukka-chan, a leak-eared cross between a rabbit and a deer, the symbol of Fukaya city in Saitama… Jumbal III, is the watermelon king and ruler of the Jumbo watermelons in Nyuzen city… Benki-Shiroishi, a toilet-headed blues singer sitting on a toilet, mascot of Sanpoll toilet disinfectant… Hikonyan, a samurai cat introduced to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the founding of Hikone Castle… Waka-P, a six-foot tall Mandarin orange representing Wakayama Women's Prison…

"I have not seen Miss Chidori today," Sousuke said, partly true. He had seen Kaname Chidori's body, but he would not call himself Kaname Chidori. Other people seemed so inclined, as one might expect. But, that was neither here nor there. With all that had gone on already since the fateful incident at the Neurological hospital, he was just waiting for the next shoe to drop. "Why do all of you want to see Kaname?' He asked the empty hallway, as the last mascot in line had turned a corner, gone from sight. "That will be a large number of targets to survey. It may be difficult determining their intentions."

"Excuse me," another line of mascots was getting off of a large bus. "I am looking for a blue-haired girl." It was Chitan, a beige and white otter wearing a turtle for a hat. The mischievous and previously sanctioned yuru-kyara was employed by the tourist board of Tokyo's 'Electric Town', Akihabara, but also moonlights as a mascot for the city of Susaki. "We need to grab a Kaname Chidori," someone added, with a poor choice of words. Kaparu, a lime-green mascot kappa and winner of the mascot Yuru Chara Grand Prix festival in 2018, was dreamed up by the city of Shiki, in Saitama Prefecture, to promote local culture and sporting events. "We need to find out everything she knows." Out of context, that was a bit like a match to a fuse. The one talking was Jimmy Hattori, the pink and black condom-helmeted ninja who promotes safe sex in Japan. "We'll give her back when we're done with her," a mascot joked, trying to be cute. Chihana-chan, the flower-headed Mascot of Chiba City, was indeed kawaii; but, the joke fell flat, and lay there like unexploded ordinance.

"I will search for His Excel-" Sousuke coughed. "I will try and find the President of the Student Council." He lied. "His name is Atsunobu Hayashimizu. He will know where to find the class rep. Please wait here." He felt a bit irate, when the mascots turned and headed in the same direction the others had. He had to admit that they had little choice. A large number of yuru-kyara were shoving from behind, trying to make it inside, out of the wind. Small in size by comparison, Sousuke was shielded from view by a sea of mascots, so that a number of them thought they were speaking out of earshot of anyone from the school.

"We're going to get a lot of money for this," one mascot said, referring to the money they hoped to earn for Cancer Research, by getting pledges via a telethon to be set up outside of the gymnasium. "Yeh. It will be fun to see who hits the target first." That mascot was referring to a monetary goal. "It really doesn't matter who it is," the next mascot in the door said. "We all win. If we prove ourselves here, we'll be in high demand. No one will be able to stop us." Mascots generated a great deal of money for Japan each year, in the billions of yen, by way of products sold, souvenirs bought, fundraising activities, and by acting as walking advertisements.

There are now so many mascots that people are losing track of which mascot is which, as well as the products, teams, programs, organizations and social movements they were created to represent in the first place. Mascots needed a way to stand out and grab attention. In Tokyo alone there are around two-hundred and fifty mascots, working at theme parks, tourist sites and even government offices, and that's not even counting the mascots hired for company promotions or the ones representing different branches of the armed services, nuclear power plants, and technology centers.

"They are so blatant," Sousuke said to himself, putting distance between himself and the adorable mascots. "They are speaking so openly about their plans… a way of hiding in plane sight I suppose… who would ever suspect a mascot!" What should he do? If he simply hid, they would not be able to find him, even if they took a captive who could identify him… 'her.' But, they might not leave without tearing the school apart… torturing countless innocents… or calling in attack dogs who could sniff clothing taken from Kaname's locker.

The mascots were dispersing, speaking to as many people as they could. The Vice Principle directed a good many towards the gym. The Principle offered refreshments that had been set aside for the visitors. Eri was there too. "You'll love Kaname," she said. "She's very inspirational." The poor woman was oblivious. She didn't know the danger she was in. The danger they were all in.

"I must say I am impressed with how calm you've all been," It was Nishiko-kun, a gray white and black mascot who looked like a dog trapped in a flower stenciled on a hat box. He was speaking to the teacher. "Most people get very excitable in circumstances like these."

"That's right…" The next one speaking was Sanomaru, 2013 mascot Grand Prix winner from Sano city, with his big puppy eyes and a bowl of ramen spilled over his head. "We don't want anyone here to lose their head…." That was a mascot joke, given the detachable costume headpieces."

To Sousuke's credit, he hadn't given in entirely to his paranoia and unfortunate habit of misconstruing things that he heard. He wanted to be certain that he wasn't getting too hot under the collar too quickly. He didn't want to be sending rounds into a populated area without a spotter, so to speak. But, it only needed another shove to fire up the reptile brain again.

"Hey… that's not a mascot…." Muay Thaishi remarked, or at least the person inside of the Kickboxing sea-fish representing the Thai embassy did. "That's… that's…."

"Gloomy Bear," another mascot said with a sense of annoyance. This was _their_ gig. The whole program was supposed to be cute. Cute and friendly. Gloomy Bear the animated character was anything but friendly. "What's _he_ doing here?" That was Tom the Jelly Bean, the mascot of the American embassy.

"This might be a problem," Sousuke said stolidly. "It is good that Kaname is _not _here. She is not equipped to deal with danger. I am." He doubled down on that truth. "I am overqualified."

It was not just the sight of the newcomer; it was the sound and the smell. The mascot-like figure was not cute, at least not in the regular way. The base design was kawaii; the added characteristics made it incredibly popular with some crowds. Not versed in yuru-kyara, Sousuke did not know that the seven-foot figure standing before him was not precisely a mascot in design. That didn't matter to him. He was concerned that the construction of the huge pink bear held secrets of the most sinister type.

Any number of students at Jindai High would have recognized Gloomy Bear, at least in its plushie form, or from YouTube videos. The accurate costume was not sanctioned by Mori Chack, the Japanese graphic designer and father of gloomy bear. The story goes that Gloomy Bear was abandoned as a cub and is found and taken in by a boy named Pity. Pity loves him and cares for him, raising him from that point forward. At first Gloomy is cute and cuddly but as he grows, his more instinctual side takes over and he does what any adult bear might do to a human, he mauls the bejesus out of him. And so it goes: Pity loves, Gloomy attacks, over and over again. Chack's creation was meant to be an antithesis to the excessively cute products produced by Disney, Sanrio's Hello Kitty, and other companies… not to mention the mascot craze itself.

The irony of it all was that Hiroshi Tachikawa was indeed a mascot actor. He was the heart and soul of Swatton, a ballet dancing half-swan half-pig representative of Hamatorbetsu Town. His mascot costume had been damaged by a dry cleaner. That was a tragedy. He had lost a well-paying position that was under the aegis of a design and development team of the Japanese Army, and needed every yen he could make; his daughter suffered from Hodgkin Disease, and her medical treatment was expensive. His wife couldn't work; she spent all of her time looking after their little girl.

"Hey, Missy-" Hiroshi said to Sousuke. "I'm looking for-" The large pink bear, with blood-red stains on his chest and blood below his closed jaws, looked down on one paw. On the palm, nestled between enormous sharp metal claws, there was something written in smudged Sharpie ink. "Kanned Squidie?"

"Kaname Chidori," Sousuke said in a cold deadpan voice. All sorts of alarms were sounding within his head. The mascot smelled of metal, hydraulic fluid, and if he was not mistaken, extremely powerful lithium batteries. The sound it made when it moved was more than something a cloth-covered human being could make. He felt a cold chill go down his spine. Could it be an Arastol, one of Leonard Testarossa's powerful robots, with either a very convincing A.I. and voice emulator, or one remotely-piloted and projecting a controller's voice through a speaker?

"**That's the name!"** Hiroshi said. "Where can I find her?" He had built a powered exoskeleton for the army in his little home shop, just before being let go. And before his unfortunate release, he had made a Gloomy Bear costume for his daughter's birthday celebration, and placed it over his marvelous mechanical creation, so that he could bring the bear to life in a dramatic way. His wife refused to let him bring something that gory to a party for six-year-olds; but, no matter, his capricious little darling had switched favorites again. He hired Shinobi-chan, a retired pink ninja mascot who had been an advocate for CS Accounting. A week later, the actor would help him find work in the yuru-kyara industry.

"I do not-" Sousuke began to say. He was going to deny the bear's request. Instead, an idea came to mind. It would require a slight bit of disobedience; but, no one at Mithril would find out. He had to trust in his sixth sense. Lives were at stake. If he was wrong, he could live with the repercussions. He had been doing that the entire time he was at school. "I believe you can find her in the gym." He could kill a lot of birds with one stone. After all, that was the eventual destination of _all_ of the arriving mascots.

"**Great!"** Hiroshi replied. "Do you think you can show me the way there?"

"Affirmative," Sousuke said, leading the homemade mascot fill-in to the gymnasium. As he waved the bear into the large room, he hurried off to a restricted area, a part of the school undergoing renovation. He headed over to a large green metal bin with a large heavy cover. To all the world, it looked like an over-sized dumpster. There was a large concealed door at one end.

"This is Urzu-7," he said to the ersatz garbage container. "Access code zero zero seven seven niner. Open Sesame." The door slid open. Nestled inside, system kept ready by a sophisticated electric charger, Bonta-kun stood in all of its glory.

Back at the gym, the large pink bear stepped into the room. "Oh… so everybody is here already…." Hiroshi scanned the surroundings. All of the walls were lined by mascots, standing shoulder to shoulder, talking amongst themselves as best as their costumes allowed.

"Not everyone," an eggplant-headed dog said. That was Oisenasu-kun, mascot of the Nasu Animal Kingdom. "A few are still talking to the school bigwigs. They should be here any minute."

"And a few of us are still looking for that student who arranged everything," That was Kanzou-kun, the elephant/liver hybrid mascot that encourages hepatitis screening in Tokyo.

"Miss Chidori was very nice on the telephone," the woman in the Nishiko-kun costume remarked. "My mother also died of cancer. And, coincidentally, we each have a sister named Ayame still living with our fathers. Mine is in France, however." Little did the actor know that the conversation was picked up on by a microphone. The words were garbled. All that was decipherable had been 'Chidori', 'sister,' and 'Ayame.'

The gymnasium lights were on low. Broad beams of light slanted down into the room, giving it an otherworldly feel. The gym teacher was late; he was severely constipated, and was doing his best to move things along. The lights would have to wait.

A volleyball net had been pushed to one side, along with a horse, parallel bars, and rolled-up exercise mats. Large platforms and artistic constructs on wheels were present at the center of the brightly polished floor, along with fanciful props and tools intended for the show that the mascots would put on outside for the telethon. Everything would be wheeled outside when the time was right. The school's students would not be lucky enough to see the proceedings live; but, most of the world's population were in luck.

Double doors on one wall opened slightly and stopped, blocked by a mass of mascots. They stepped aside. An unexpected mascot walked into the room with the swagger of a deadly desperado.

"**Look… it's Moffle,"** Kumamon said. His mistake was understandable. Both 'Full Metal Panic?: Fumoffu' and 'Amagi Brilliant Park' are animated by Kyoani, based on light novels written by Gatoh Shoji, and directed by Takemoto Yasuhiro. Moffle was purposefully based on Bonta-kun, and ended everything that he said with '-fumo.'

"No, idiot," Domo-kun said rudely. "It's Bonta-kun."

"I thought that mascot had been retired when Fumo Fumo Land closed," Chitan's actor said. "I used to-" He had intended to mention that he had loved going to that amusement park as a child, but was interrupted by a dramatic admonishment.

"When you chose to target Kaname Chidori," Sousuke said. His words came out as 'Fumo fumo fumo.' "You chose to be retired yourself." 'That came out as 'Fumo fumoffu.' The vocoder in the small A.S. still needed to be turned on for the powered suit to function.

"Listen Bonta-Buddy," Hiroshi said. His suit had a voice system too. His words came out as 'Gloomy Gloomy.' "I'm just here to-" He was cut-off.

"**Shut up!"** Sousuke said. Strangely enough, there were people in the room who could understand Bonta-speak. Hiroshi was one of them. Similarly, the small A.S. could decipher Gloomy-talk. "We are specialists. There should be no lies between our kind." No everyone their had bizarre linguistics skills. They scratched their head, wondering what the hell 'Fumo Fumo Fumoruru fumo fumo fumoffu' meant. They had little time to contemplate the mystery. They watched in shock as Bonta-kun charged straight at the other bear.

"That guy is seriously nuts," one mascot said, the only one with the good sense to flee the room. It was Senhor Testiculo, also known as Mr. Testicle or Mr. Balls. He is a Brazilian mascot that goes around reminding men to check themselves for testicular cancer. The AAPEC, a Brazilian cancer foundation, describes Mr. Balls as a 'friendly and hairy snowman in the shape of testicles.' That's just wishful thinking. He simply looks like a giant hairy flesh-colored scrotum.

"Is this part of the show?" The man inside the Reruhi-san mascot asked. His costume is based on Theodor Elder von Lerch, an Austrian Major General who went to Japan as 'an ambassador to winter leisure sports'. His yellow outfit is somewhere between a snowsuit and an old-fashioned pair of pajamas.

"I'm not sure," the actor playing Unari-kun replied. He was the official mascot of Narita City in Chiba Prefecture, and had defeated 1,157 rivals from localities nationwide to win that year's Grand Prix. He's half airplane, half eel and has 33,500 followers on Twitter.

"I wish I had some popcorn," Fukka-chan remarked.

"I wish I had a beer," Kaparu said.

"**Shit!"** Hiroshi said_. "Suit on!"_ Power amped up in an instant. The exoskeleton was the Japanese equivalent of the 'Guardian XO' by Sarcos Robotics and Lockheed 'Onyx' devices used by the U.S. Army, and a Russian suit, the 'Ratnik-3'. "Who ever you are, you're fucked in the head. But, okay. Bring it on!"

Most in the room heard 'Gloomy gloomy gloomy gloomy gloomity gloomity gloom!'

The two powered suits hurled themselves head-on in a remarkable rush. To the watching mascots, it was as if Godzilla was heading for a charging Megalon, or Ultra-man was speeding to put an extra big hurt on a rumbling Dinozaur.

Soon, the action was almost too fast to follow. Punches flashed out. Colossal kicks landed. The opponents jumped, slid, rolled, and leaped again. Large fake scimitars lashed out in a titanic duel. Giant hula-hoops were thrown over bodies, to bind arms or legs, but were burst asunder by powerful mechanical muscles. Each adversary ran to giant circus cannons, loaded loose items inside, and fired the prop weapons, using the flying objects as a way to hinder the vision of the other fighter, before rushing in again.

'Fumo fumo!' Sousuke shouted "Not bad!"

"Gloomy gloom!" Hiroshi replied with "Back at you!"

Neither combatant realized that a blonde reporter and film crew had walked inside from their outside location, bring their equipment with them when they heard a rather loud ruckus. Originally unhappy having been sent to a high school to film yet another mascot missive, they cheered up watching the earth-shattering spectacle.

"Tell me you're getting this," the woman said in a rush. This would be much more exciting than the piece they had done on legal Japanese dogfights, where twenty-five thousand dogs were registered, many of them the Tosa, a rather large descendant of the old English mastiff, a massive beast that sometimes weighed as much as 200 pounds. Japanese tradition has it that the modern Tosa originated in the seventeenth century, when an English frigate struck a reef in Tosa Bay on the eastern side of Shikoku, the smallest of the four Japanese home islands. The inhabitants of that time were not noted for their hospitality, and what became of the captain and crew of the ship was never recorded. But, in the wreckage of the frigate, according to the legend, the Japanese found a huge, brown dog, whose instinct as a fighter led him to defeat all the best local dogs. "This will get us more praise than the potato gun segment!"

"We're good," a camera man replied.

"This is Maya Demizu, bringing you the news from Jindai Municipal High School-" the pretty blonde said. "-The site of a wonderful and hopefully profitable event, one which has brought many of Japan's cheerful and charitable mascots together for a fight against cancer. And if that fight is anything like the fight that I'm going to show you now, then cancer doesn't stand a chance!" She told the cameraman to 'zoom in' and 'capture every bit of mayhem possible.'

What seemed like an eternity, only took a mere three minutes more. To the onlookers, things seemed to move in slow motion, every move and counter-move etched into their brains.

"It's big! It's beautiful! It's a Battling Bear Bonanza," Maya said. "Two of Japan's cherished figures are duking it out in a ballet of blows. A duel for the ages. Pokemon… Street Fighter… Knives Out… who out there doesn't love a good throw-down? Kids… and parents, too… don't try this at home!"

"We have confirmation," a sound technician announced. "The feed is good. The broadcast is a 'go' on every service in every nation." That meant that the show would also be readily available for Mithril, Amalgam, and militaries everywhere.

Sousuke used Kaname's suplex move, and every other move he had seen when Lieutenant Commander Kalanin surprisingly showed him American Pro Wrestling and Mexican Lucha Libre when he asked his subordinate over for 'voluntary' borscht.

His opponent was no slouch, having grown up with his eyes glued to the television set, watching movies about Bruce Lee and Ip man, and countless martial arts movies of every stripe.

A pretty glitter-covered rainbow the size of a small horse was swung like the vicious Arakh of Khal Drogo. A long pole topped with a stallion's head, made for make-believe riding by mascots, was used for some serious striking. Huge decorative stuffed animals were tossed like deadly dodge balls, only to be slice in two or torn in half, causing huge clouds of fluff and sawdust to explode everywhere. The fighters ran through giant sets, one shaped like a fanciful castle, and another looking like a large house made of candy. Great splashes of water flew everywhere, as they sloshed through a water-filled beach scene.

A cry went up from the massed mascots and camera crew alike, not to mention the telethon personnel who had headed inside. The watching mascots were jumping up and down, shouting out their catch phrases and making their characteristic noises. Some did shadow boxing and others did poor imitations of wushu, imagining that they were in the fight too, but happy that they were safe and sound on the sidelines.

"This reminds me of my first marriage," Maya Demizu said.

"It reminds me of supper time," a telethon host remarked, the tenth of eleven children.

_**Fuuuuuuu-mooooo Fuuuuuu-mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**_

**Gloooooo-meeeeee Glooooo-meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**

Gloomy Bear took a prodigious leap, soaring halfway to the ceiling, his clawed arms out like the wings of a great predatory bird. Bonta-kun jumped straight up underneath it, body stretched out in a Superman pose.

There was a catastrophic collision.

And then, things were over.

**F-U-M-O-!-!-!-!**

A triumphant Bonta-Kun stood on the chest of a prone Gloomy Bear. Sousuke piloted the A.S. off of his fallen foe and extended an arm down to him. "You fought well," he said, a gracious victor. "You chose the wrong girl to kidnap."

"Kidnap?" Hiroshi sounded winded, and quite probably bruised over every bit of his body. _"Kidnap?_ Who said anything about a kidnapping?" He took the bear's huge headpiece off, so he could better breath fresh air into his laboring lungs. "We're all here to put on a show for charity. You know. To combat cancer, not each other."

"Uhhhhhh…." Sousuke gulped. "Show?"

"Yes. A show." That was the head host of the telethon, a dark-haired man with a two small bushes of hair perched above greatly oversized ears. He obviously could make out Bonta-kun's voice too. "I don't know either of you two mascots; but, I'm certain you will be the stars of the entire broadcast." He spoke in a quiet voice that only he, Hiroshi, and the still buttoned-up Sousuke could hear. As coincidence would have it, he was a big fan of dog fighting and Pokemon. "I'd like to sign both of you up. I'm thinking about starting a Mascot Fighting Club!"

"**How much!"** Hiroshi's eyes were huge and practically glowing.

"-" Bonta-kun said nothing. Sousuke suddenly piloted the powerful little A.S. back from whence he had early come. He was sweating heavily, breathing hard, heart beating like crazy.

The fact that he had been televised was a shock. But, at least his identity was a secret. A secret to those who didn't know about the Bonta-Kun fighting suit. And, he should say Kaname's identity. He quickly stashed the A.S. away, just in case Wakana was still anywhere nearby. He felt a bit on edge, fearing that he might get a frantic phone call from Kalinin or Clouseau.

"At least there is no kidnapping."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Gloomy Bear truly exists. He is indeed quite violent, as his clips on YouTube show._

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**PREP TIME REDUX**

"I need to get to the meeting room," Sousuke told himself after he had locked Bont-kun's container.

He wondered what P.E. class would entail, if they were not using the gymnasium or going outside. He understood why they were not using the gym. The mascots were gathering there. Perhaps the outdoor facilities might be off limits because of the telethon.

"We were told to report in our street clothes," he said. That would save him some time. He didn't spend any more time thinking through the mystery. He was still too frazzled after the fight with Gloomy Bear, and the realization that he had been so far off base. It was one thing to be a loose cannon as Sousuke Sagara. It was an altogether different thing to go ballistic as Kaname Chidori. How much largesse might he get, using the Traumatic Brain Injury excuse? But, leading mascots to the gym wasn't a transgression. And no one could place Kaname Chidori inside of Bonta-kun. But, his actions throughout that day were still quite different than the way Kaname would normally behave. Then again, nobody would blame her for the traps in match class, or the gastric projectiles in English class. He was having trouble keeping things straight. Where did Sousuke Sagara end and Kaname Chidori begin?

"I-" He swallowed hard. "I need to become more zen." It truly was in Kaname's best interest that he tone things down, just the same. The last thing that Kaname might want was a directive from school administrators, one that sent her for mandatory psychiatric examination… or an MRI! Then again, the Principal might ask the school Nurse which hospital to send her to, and the health care provider might very well select The Tokyo Neurological Center. Talk about irony!

He quickened his pace, muttering to himself again. "Be the ball… be the ball… be the ball… don't screw up… don't screw up… do… not… screw… up…."

He slid to a sudden stop, wind-milling his arms to keep from performing a rather embarrassing face plant. Good at quick covert movements in his own body, he was adequately elusive in his current form. Silently, he concealed himself behind a large potted glossy-leaf paper plant, also known as the false castor oil plant, or Japanese aralia. He carefully pushed a few leaves apart to get an unobstructed view of the scene ahead.

"No.. no… no…" A dumpy bearded man said, rolled up sleeves revealing a tattoo of an eagle riding a lightning bolt, against the background of a black and red striped shield. That was a design favored by GROM, Grupa Reagowania Operacyjno-Manewrowego, one of the five special operation forces units of the Polish Armed Forces. "Who taught you? Were you even taught? The Nikon D850 has a shutter travel time of about 2.4ms. A full-power flash from a modern built-in or hot shoe mounted electronic flash has a typical duration of about 1ms, or a little less, so the minimum possible exposure time for even exposure across the sensor with a full-power flash is about 2.4ms + 1.0 ms = 3.4ms, corresponding to a shutter speed of about 1/290 s. However, some time is required to trigger the flash. At the maximum standard D850 X-sync shutter speed of 1/250 s, the exposure time is 1/250 s = 4.0ms, so about 4.0ms - 2.4ms = 1.6ms are available to trigger and fire the flash, and with a 1ms flash duration, 1.6ms - 1.0ms = 0.6ms are available to trigger the flash."

A hapless-appearing and emaciated man mumbled an apology. His eyes were steely, though. His acquiescence was much like that of a kohai to a sempai. The half-hidden markings on his shrunken neck were those of the 601 Commando Company of the Argentinian Army: black shield with a white y-shape, and a superimposed white sword overlying a yellow horse's head.

"That's right!" A fierce looking woman said, her nose looking like something a hawk might wear proudly. "I have told you this, too. "Mid- to high-end Nikon DSLRs…D7000 and above… have an unusual menu-selectable feature which increases the maximum X-Sync speed to 1/320 s = 3.1ms with some electronic flashes. At 1/320 s only 3.1ms - 2.4ms = 0.7ms are available to trigger and fire the flash while achieving a uniform flash exposure, so the maximum flash duration, and therefore maximum flash output, must be, and is, reduced." It looked like her one pants leg concealed a prosthetic limb. She had once been a member of Norway's Jegertroppen, the world's first all-female Special Forces Unit. She wore earrings in the shape of a Viking ship.

"I'll take care of the bum," a bald man with a handle-bar mustache said in a Slavic accent. He didn't have any ink showing; but, he looked no less accomplished than his fellow photographers. "Remember what I told you in preparation for this shoot? Contemporary focal-plane shutter cameras with full-frame or smaller sensors typically have maximum normal X-sync speeds of 1/200 s or 1/250 s. Some cameras are limited to 1/160 s. X-sync speeds for medium format cameras when using focal-plane shutters are somewhat slower, e.g. 1/125 s because of the greater shutter travel time required for a wider, heavier, shutter that travels farther across a larger sensor."

Sousuke felt as if he were listening to a foreign language. The alarm bell in his head should be ringing loudly; but, his lizard brain had surprisingly shut if off. That one track mind had one goal now, and that was getting to class without getting into anymore trouble. Challenging people would only cause conflict. There was probably a very good explanation as to why most of the men and women had military markings. They may have started a company together, after meeting in some military cooperative mission or competition. Their speech certainly made them sound legitimate.

He slunk out from behind the shrub and headed on his way, muttering to himself again.

"You there," a voice called out. "Young lady." Sousuke kept walking until the man said "Please. Just a moment of your time?"

"_Me?"_ Sousuke asked, turning. It was the elegant looking photographer he kept getting glimpses of. When the man nodded with an overly friendly smile, he asked "What can I do for you?"

"I need to know if you have seen a student," the man said, his teeth looking impossibly white. "I understand he is a celebrity of sorts, so you probably know what he looks like." After a pause, while he watched Kaname's face, he said "Sousuke Sagara." It sounded as if there was an echo, in the room. A number of the other camera-carrying men and women had asked passing students the same name.

Sousuke hesitated. Tensing up and about to circumvent his most primitive brain, he noticed a clipboard in the man's hand. Most of the names had been crossed off. He let out a held breath. "I know who Sousuke Sagara is," he said truthfully. "But, I haven't seen him around here today." Mostly true, too. "Come to think of it…." He rubbed Kaname's chin. "I didn't see him at school yesterday, either."

"I see," the man said. He was still staring at Kaname's face, as if something very important had slipped his mind. He shrugged and said "Thank you very much. I suppose I will see you for your picture later."

"Certainly," Sousuke said. He could have originally sat for Kaname's picture in his condition. But, certainly not now, not with his hair dyed black.

"Before you leave, I have another name for you." The man made a show of checking his list. "Kaname Chidori. As I understand it, she has been involved with the big event today. Funny that the Charity would choose the same day that we did." It truly _was_ a coincidence.

"The mascots have all been asking the same question," Sousuke said in complete honesty. "No one seems to have found her yet. The mascots were heading over to the gym. The telethon was shooting out back of the building there."

"I see," the man said, nodding his head. "Thank you again." He walked over to another group of students, asking about Kaname and Sousuke.

Dismissed, Sousuke resumed his speed walking.

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**PHOTO CREW**

A few moments after Sousuke had walked away, the head photographer joined his comrades.

"There was something about that girl," Humphry Magunesiumu said. "Something I feel is mocking me." The other students had seen neither Sousuke Sagara nor Kaname Chidori.

"What was her name," the Norwegian woman asked.

"I don't know." The man had a pained look on his face. "I didn't ask." That's the problem when you track a single target too long, and lose sight of everything else. "Shit!" He sighed. "It will come to me eventually, no doubt." He ran a hand through his lustrous hair. "Sagara's absence is actually a good thing. It's too good to be true. And, it's readily explainable, seeing his unique value."

"But the girl _should_ be here," the emaciated man said. "She is supposed to be the master of ceremonies for the charity show today. And, I was told that she gave the speech at this morning's assembly."

"Right," the moustache he man agreed. "Her name also came up in regards to some kind of incident in the hallway, one which lead to a man be carted away to the regional police center. It is possible_ that_ has something to do with our difficulty locating her."

"Good save," Humphry said. "Have our agents at that facility check into that angle. We should also check in with the cameras we have set-up outside of her apartment building. If something sent her home, she could be there or on the way there. Have our people at all of the radar facilities in the area keep a sharp look out, too. There are other places that she might go, if certain contrary people grow concerned."

"Yes, Sir!" After a number of the crew hurried to follow those leads, a number of men walked up with other possible solutions. That lead to more planning and more orders.

"She could still be here," the cleverly named Humphry Magunesiumu said. "We'll all keep vigilant, and continue with our cover task." He laughed. "I mean, we _are_ getting paid for it, and we pride ourselves at getting all of our customer's work done." The way he said that made it sound as if this kind of mundane employment contract was not their usual job.

And, so it was not. Humphry Magunesiumu's true name was Miyamoto Bokuden. 'Magunesiumu' was of course a Japanese word for magnesium, a metal that could form an amalgam with mercury. Magnesium was also the metal that had once been used in flash photography, and also formed the filaments in flash bulbs. That metal had been first isolated by Sir Humphry Davy, in England in 1808.

"Whatever happens today," Mr. Magnesium said. "Be certain that no harm whatsoever befalls the girl. Mr. Silver has made that point very clear. I don't think anyone here wants to get on his bad side.

Everyone answered quickly in the affirmative. The silver-haired man in question certainly looked as tranquil as a floating cloud, and sounded as soft as a summer breeze. But, he was no one to cross. For certain, no one ever crossed him twice.

"What if we don't ever find her today," an ex-Nigerian Army soldier asked. "Should we set traps for her here? Spy cams? Whatever?"

"No," Mr. Magnesium said. "We have other means available. And, Sagara would no doubt find anything we leave. At the very least, our being here is valuable in intelligence gathering. If need be, Mr. Silver will come himself to collect her someday. And, he has given us orders to leave the school building unharmed. Unaltered and unharmed."

"I see, Sir." The Nigerian man headed back into the room where the photographs were being taken.

"We will remain prepared to work hard… passionate in our work… and persistent through all difficulties," Mr. Magnesium told himself.

Good words of advice for a male model and a mercenary both.

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_Deception is rife within Shakespeare's plays, perhaps because deception is rife within human nature. _

_Interestingly, deception in Shakespeare takes many forms. For example, there are instances of accidental deception, as in _

The Comedy of Errors. _There are many cases of characters using deception as a form of self-preservation, as in _

Twelfth Night_ and _As You Like It_. And then, of course, there are the occasions when deception is used in a more malevolent fashion, as in _King Lear_, _Julius Caesar_ and _Richard III.

_*Deception is also the life's blood of __Full Metal Panic__*_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's note**__: Hopefully you have the stamina for another busy chapter._

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**LABORATORY**

Kaname stood in a daze.

She wasn't certain if she had been squeezed in a juicer like an orange, or twisted free of water like a towel.

Sipping on a cup of dark coffee, she mumbled to herself, but not only audible to herself. "Broadband and high-power terahertz radiation source based on extended interaction klystron… Rotating-Coil Magnetometer for scanning transversal field harmonics in Accelerator Magnets…acceleration of electrons in the plasma wakefield of a proton bunch."

"Sounds like our gal might have reached her limit," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said with sincere sympathy. Then his eye flashed an he was a hardcore scientist again. "Otherwise she would have mentioned generation and measurement of sub-micrometer relativistic electron beams…new aspects of longitudinal instabilities in electron storage rings… and power-law relationship in the long-tailed sections of proton dose distributions."

"Give the young lady a break," Dr. Necessiter said. "She's been through so much, the poor dear." His smile better fit a shark than a man. "It's alright if she forgot that a small amount of mini-charged dark matter could cool the baryons in the early universe…controlling Cherenkov angles with resonance transition radiation… and searching for an exotic spin-dependent interaction with a single electron-spin quantum sensor."

"**The two of you knock it off!"** Miss Uumellmahaye smacked both men hard against the back of their heads. _"Really!_ How would you two bumpkins like being surrounded by lustful chattering women all morning long." She made a disgusted noise, seeing the looks on their faces. She cocked her head. "But… you know… I did find the practical application of generalized statistical mechanics of cosmic rays and application to positron-electron spectral indices to be rather fascinating."

"It's all so far above me…" Kaname said. "You know… the real me… not the Whispered me." She hung her head, looking at a few concentric circles her tears made in the surfaced of her drink. She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "I can't help but think I'm some kind of guinea pig… why else would there be so man people here doing all this… for one high school girl and a military maniac."

"It's not just any girl," Dr. Necessditer. "A Whispered girl. And it's not just any military maniac. It's the only military maniac in Mithril who can pilot the Lambda Driver."

"But that's it," Kaname said, feeling a surge of anger cut through the fog of sullen sadness. "We're commodities. Sousuke is a slave to his skill. And I'm just a source of precious and sought-after technology."

"You're more than that," Anne said kindly. "But… I have to admit… you _are_ right. In a race for Black Technology, you are an important resource. However, while you may think yourself cursed, Mithril did not curse you. They have helped you. Sergeant Sagara is proof of that."

"**Hah!"** Kaname's spirit was back in full. This subject matter always had her weak circulation pumped up and raring to go. "Sousujke Sagara is a curse. I mean… _really!"_ Her grimace was slowly replaced by a small smile. She sighed, wondering how Sousuke was doing. "But… I still can't really trust their motives, can I?"

"They may not exactly be knights in shining armor," Dr. Hfuhruhurr remarked. "But the work they do does often is for the greater good, not the greater evil." He wasn't blind the fact that Mithril was a mercenary outfit of the highest level, but still just an organization working outside national sovereignty. "They are part of the check and balance equation… they are the yin to Amalgam's yang."

"It might not help your state of mind to think this," Dr. Necessiter put in. "But… Amalgam is the one gathering up Whispered to gain whatever information they have. They do not send cute mercenaries to look after pretty girls. They capture girls… extract the knowledge they have… and then discard them… never to be seen again."

"-" Kaname had no words. She felt as if she had been bowled over by a sudden tidal wave of angst and fear. That fact had no been unknown to her. She had dealt with it before. But here… now… she felt so exposed and so vulnerable. A lab rat there. Or a lab rat here. She was still a lab rat. The difference would be she would walk away alive, but still a target. But, hopefully she would be a target back in her own body.

"Here's a thought," Anne said, looking Kaname in the eyes. "Mithril is helping you. It does want Black Technology. But… it wants even more to keep that technology out of Amalgam's clutch. And… you know there is a simpler way of doing that…."

"**Indeed!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr shook a finger at Kaname. "They _could_ have sent a cute solider-" He was cut off.

"And a conceited playboy sniper… and a busty foul-mouthed crab-eating ex-Marine-" Like his fellow scientist, he knew about the workings of Mithril and the duty roster of the TDD-1.

"To assassinate you," Anne finished. She thought the point would put things to rest. It had the opposite effect.

"But… it's not just Mithril…" Kaname swallowed hard. Her annoyance with many of the morning's visitors was replaced by suspicion and a sense of dread. "Mithril may have brought in people of every conceivable discipline that might provide a clue to the Whispers, and the mind-body mix-up… but _some_ might have separate agendas in the long run…."

"Oh," Anne said, following Kaname's thoughts. "I see. The religious sects." The way that she said that, she didn't sound too fond of the visitors for some reason, as if she somehow stood apart from them. "Christians… Jews… Muslims…Hindus…."

"Taoists," Dr Hfuhruhurr added. "Zoroastrianism… Budhists… Bahá'í Faith… Jainism… Sihkism…"

"Mormons," Dr. Neccesiter continued. "Pentecostals… and a smoking hot and babeliscious Gnostic…_owww!"_ He winced when Anne stomped hard on his foot.

"You're afraid that they are here out of fear, ultimately," Anne remarked. "You are concerned what they might find… no, what they may end up thinking, whether they find something concrete or not. "

"You're afraid they may want to burn you at the stake… _owww!"_ Dr Necessiter yelped again. This time it was Dr Hfuhruhurr wuth the heavy foot, crushing his toes. The other man glanced at Anne, and then shook his head.

"It's all part of the game," Anne said, her voice hushed. "Certain religious groups wield great power in some circles. And certain groups supplying Mithril with money and intelligence have some form of allegiance to religion, or their members are men and women of faith."

"Which means that _I _have to have faith," Kaname said with a jolt of irony. "I have to hope that no one finds anything that frighten them. That, and pray that you guys… or they…." She looked around the room. "Find something that helps."

"Great way to change the subject," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "While you were chatting with Anne about aliens… before the big SNAFU… we were speaking with Sergeant Sagara about head transplants. It's-"

"While some people might think such an advance would be a great way to fight untreatable disease," Dr. Necessiter usurped the thought. "There are those people who would look at things a different way, and not necessarily with good intentions. There have always been people obsessed with the idea of immortality."

"Let's not delve to deep into theatrics, gentlemen." Anne said. "What my… esteemed… compatriots are trying to lead up to is another concept. But… before I mention it, I have to admit that it would indeed be research… not really a rescue."

"Just spit it out," Dr. Necesster said. "We all like Kaname. We all want what's best for her and Sousuke."

"It's not like we're monsters," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "We're not going to do evil things for the greater good. There's a topic we never got to mention to your soldier friend. Something that the unfortunate accident gave some credence to. Mind transplantation."

"That's right," Anne said. "And the good part about tghat would be…." She pointed at Kaname's ring, which was now a lighter shade of green. "Even if time runs out to reverse things the way that they occurred in this lab, there may be a way to place _your_ thoughts back in _your _body." She sounded like there was a catch. Perhaps a rather big catch.

"Memories," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "Understanding them is the key.

"He's right for once," Dr. Necessiter said. "Let's look at it this way. Your brain is a three-pound lump of fatty tissue that contains about eighty-six billion brain cells called neurons. By passing electricity or chemicals between them, neurons can send signals to each other. Most neuroscientists believe memory is stored as a network of neurons that form links with each other and all fire at the same time."

"When they fire correctly," Dr. Hfuhruhurr remarked. "Nessie here once spent whole day looking for his car keys." He chuckled. "Miss Uumellmahaye had to remind him that he didn't even own a car.."

"Very funny, coming from a man with only one headlight!" Dr. Necessiter sounded like he was primed for a fight.

"What's even funnier is a man with a grill like that!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr was obviously making reference to his comrade's teeth, after that man had joked about his having only one real eye. _Ooo-ooo-ooo."_ He almost bit his tongue after Anne twisted his ear, before doing the same for Dr. Necessiter.

"What Dr. Necessiter was saying," Anne prompted.

"Ahem," Dr Necessiter cleared his throat. Smiling, he say "Me me me _meeee-eee-ee-e_… okay… back to business. Each time a memory is recalled, the same network of neurons fires together. In fact, scientists have shown that if you stimulate certain parts of the brain with electricity, you can cause an individual to recall certain memories. So, to download a memory, we could simply track which neurons are activated when you're thinking about that memory. By using computers to match these patterns of firing neurons with real images or scenes, we can already read people's minds to a limited degree."

**Don't,"** Anne snapped her fingers at Dr Hfuhruhurr, who had opened his mouth.

"Many scientists believe it should one day be possible to create a kind of map of all the neurons in the brain and the connections between them: this map would be called a 'connectome'," Dr. Neccesiter explained. "Major research programs with this goal specifically in mind have been started in the United States, and other nations are in the start-up phase. This task would normally take decades, but hints and tools available through Black Technology have sped things up tremendously; and, you might provide even more clues yourself."

"Yes, you might indeed be a guinea pig of sorts," Dr. Hfuhruhurr added. "But, you can also be a savior of sorts. A savior for yourself and young Sagara. Don't focus what other people's motivations might be. Focus on your own. Just remember that we're all rooting for you."

"Thank you," Kaname said. She was feeling a bit lost at the moment, as if she had forgotten her concerns.

"Once everything is done," Dr. Neccesiter continued. "Scientists should be able to build a computer model of the connectome, a kind of virtual brain that would be able to send signals between neurons through artificial synapses. But our brains are unbelievably complex, and difficult to copy. The number of synapse connections is a thousand times bigger than the number of stars in the Milky Way galaxy."

"Which means we would have to be perfect in our operations," Dr Hfuhruhurr noted. "We wouldn't want to leave anything out and…." He paused for effect. "We wouldn't want to put in anything that wasn't there to start with.

"**Wait!"** A terrible thought occurred to Kaname. She remembered something that Tessa had told her, about resonance between Whispereds continuing too long, and how personalities could become mixed together like milk and tea, unable to be un-mixed again. "Is there… could there be…" She searched for the words, trying to get the thought to take full shape. "Am I even still me? What if some of Sousuke's thoughts… even a small number… are left in his brain. Will they mix with my thoughts… what-" She trembled. "Could… well… if that happened, could you still keep me as _me_…."

"It seems we have only given you more to worry about," Anne said. "But we've already thought about that possibility. There are preparations being made in another room. There may be a way to keep your thoughts pure, even if your thoughts are sharing real estate with Mister Sagara's."

"Really?" Kanam shivered. "Good. But… well… I wonder…."

"What," Dr Hfuhruhurr asked.

"It makes me wonder something else," Kaname said. "The Whispered thoughts are really not my own. They are somehow just there. So… you know… when everyone asks me to explain those thoughts… it seems like someone else is giving the answers. But… what if I am getting those answers wrong… because I'm mixing my own answers in… following the lead of the people asking the questions."

"_Ooo-oo-o hooo-oo-o_," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "The Clever Hans phenomenon."

"**Hah!"** Dr. Necessiter slapped his knee. "You might be right. It's all about a horse!"

"Are you calling me a horse," Kaname said, her eyes narrowing. "Or are you saying I _look _like a horse." She closed her eyes. 'Idiot!' She thought. 'I'm in Sousuke's body; not my own!'

"You know the saying-" Dr Necessiter rushed to say. "If the shoe fits… nail it in!" He chuckled.

"_Hmmm-mm-m_…." Dr Hfuhruhurr rummaged through his lab coat and pants pockets. "I think I have a sugar cube in here somewhere." That earned him blazing glares from both women. "Okay… alright… let me explain. After four years of training by his master Wilhelm von Osten, a mathematics teacher, the horse named Hans was presented to the public. The horse could count the number of persons in the audience, perform arithmetic operations, read the clock, recognize and identify playing cards, and knew the calendar of the whole year. In response to a question he would tap with his hooves either to indicate a number or the right option among many given. The obvious guess was that this was an elaborate hoax, set up through some means of training between horse and master. It soon became apparent, however, that Hans answered not only his trainer, but cooperated even in the absence of his master with any person he had never seen before."

"How-" Kaname wondered how it was done, and how it pertained to her.

"Hans performed arithmetic operations precisely, tapping numbers with his hoof and answered questions in the same way, using an alphabet with letters replaced by numbers… for example 'A' equaled one tap… 'B' equaled two taps… 'C' was three taps… and so forth and so on."

"Hans combined letters to words, words to sentences, and sentences to thoughts and ideas," Dr. Necessiter added."

"Yes," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "When he was shown a picture, Hans spelled the name of the painter. Similarly, he was able to identify the composer when melodies were played. Even rigorous questions of critical skeptics were answered correctly.

"'Clever Hans' he was called." Anne added. "He was hailed as the first and most famous 'thinking' animal. Biologists… psychologists… medical doctors… experts of all kind…and laymen, too… were rather convinced by this example that animals are able to think in a human way and to express human ideas in non-verbal human language."

"You mean," Kaname said. "Like Sousuke."

"Something like that," Dr Hfuhruhurr said with a smile. "In any case, rigorous testing showed that there was no hoax behind it all. But, despite that, the phenomenon was explained by the meticulous examination of Professor Oscar Pfungst, a biologist and psychologist. He found that the horse was unable to answer any question if the questioning person did not know the answer. And, the horse was unable to answer any question when it could not see the face of his examiner."

"The truth of the matter was that the animal was an excellent and intelligent observer who could read the almost microscopic signals in the face of his master," Dr. Necessiter said. "It realized that if had tapped… or was about to tap… the correct number or letter … it would receive a reward."

"I see," Kaname said. "I will try not to be lead on by anything thing I might see as a reward… either by getting someone to help us… or just to get someone to shut up." She would not try to guess what someone was after and supply them with that answer. "What happened to Hans?"

"Well, it was the whole feast or famine thing." Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. He meant the fall of someone famous, to a life of ignominy.

"No," Dr Necessiter corrected. "It was famine _and_ feast." He grinned, happy with his cleverness. "No longer a celebrity, Hans was drafted as a military horse at the beginning of World War One. A couple of years later, and he was eaten by soldiers."

"-" Kaname put a hand to her mouth.

"Don't worry, Miss Chidori." Dr. Necessiter was drunk on his cleverness. "I assure you, we're all well fed here." Why not one more? "Even though I'm certain that you're a young woman of… good taste."

"I think we have all had enough horsing around!" Anne stomped her foot, the way that a horse might. She had not intended that as a pun. "What is with that racket?

**PONY!**

There was a loud shout from outside the laboratory.

**PONY PONY PONY**

The noise was growing louder. People were shouting 'Catch him!' and 'Don't let him go in there!'

**PONY PONY PONY PONY** _**PO-NEEEEEE-EEEEE-EEEE-EEE-EE-E**_

"No," Kaname gasped. "It couldn't be. _Could_ it? She had heard that call before, back when she had been drafter herself, drafted as bait by officer Yoko Wakana.

"Why is _he_ here," Anne exclaimed, recognizing someone before the others in their group saw him. "And why the hell did anyone let him have that head again?"

A man slid to a stop in front of them all. That man wore a horse's head. It was Atsushi Hoketsu, aka the Pony Man or The Pony-Headed Pervert. The same one who had assaulted Kyouko, giving her a pony-tail held together by wire and glue.

"**Pony!"** Atsushi said.

"I'm sorry." A Security guard walked over, accompanied by two of his fellows and a small platoon of orderlies, nurses, and a doctor or two. He explained the strange turn of events that had allowed the patient to escape form the psychiatric ward, where he had been sent in lieu of prison. "But I have no idea why he came _here."_

"_Uhhh-hh-h-"_ That was Dr. Necessiter, doing a good Sousuke imitation. "I _might_ have mentioned something to a pretty nurse on the ward." He barely dodged another stomping foot. "I might have mentioned the problem we were all working on. _Owww-ww-w."_ He hopped on one foot. "I thought the patient was asleep."

"I may have something that will help," Atsushi said. He had taken the horse head off. "Before I was fired, after letting my obsession get in the way of my work, I was involved in higher mathematics. And, I understood a great deal about quantum physics."

"Are you going to stamp your hoof one time for 'A' and two times for 'B'?" Dr. Hfuhruhurr quipped. What could a man who had a penchant for wearing a horse's head do where the most brilliant minds in Japan and across the world could _not_ do.

"I hope we have a big shovel here somewhere," Dr Necesiter. "I have a feeling we're going to be up to our necks in horseshit soon."

"Mr. Hoketsu?" Anne asked. She had been instrumental in having the man admitted to their facility and had been following his case.

"Do I know you?" Atsushi was staring at Kaname. His eyebrows rose. He _did_ recognize her. 'Bonta-ku,' he mouthed. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and then opened them again. "The first equation of state for hair was developed by C. F. van Wyk in 1946. Other equations followed. Driven by my obsession, I formulated a mathematical model that predicts the shape of a ponytail given the length and random curvature of a sample of individual hairs. The Ponytail Shape Equation provides an understanding of how a ponytail is swelled by the outward pressure which arises from interactions between the component hairs."

"Huh?" Dr Necewssiter was at a loss for words.

"-" Dr Hfuhruhurr wasn't fairing any better.

"In conjunction with other researchers I developed a general continuum theory for a bundle of hairs, treating each hair as an elastic filament with random intrinsic curvature," the ponytail aficionado continued. . "From this we created a differential equation for the shape of the bundle relating the elasticity, gravity, and orientational disorder and extracted a simple equation of state to relate the swelling pressure to the measured random curvatures of individual hairs. The equation itself is a fourth order non-linear differential equation."

Dr. Necessiter fell to his knees. He held his head in his hands.

"The Rapunzel number is a ratio used in this equation to calculate the effects of gravity on hair relative to its length," Atsushi said. "This number determines whether a ponytail looks like a fan… or whether it arcs over and becomes nearly vertical at the bottom. I love this so much… I mean I dream about it… I can't help but-"

"Do you need another shot?" Anne asked blithely.

"No, Ma'am," Atsushi said sheepishly. "A short ponytail of springy hair with a low Rapunzel number, fans outward. A long ponytail with a high Rapunzel number, hangs down, as the pull of gravity overwhelms the springiness. And, I might add, I understand why jogger's ponytails swing side to side. An up and down motion is too unstable; a ponytail cannot sway forward and backward because the jogger's head is in the way. Any slight jostling causes the up and down movement to become a side to side sway."

Dr Hfuhruhurr was leaning against a large stack of disparate machines. He was twitching, as if he were suffering an epileptic seizure.

"I haven't spoken _this_ many words in a while," Atsushi remarked. "I'm growing a bit hoarse." He stood still a moment, realizing what he had said. "I mean… here it is… the ponytail equation:

l^3 R_{ssss} - ( L - s ) R_{ss} + R_s - pi ( R ) = 0 where pi( R ) = { 4 l^3 P } / { A \rho R }." He began pacing back and forth. "π ( R ) = {pi /3} …where g is the acceleration due to gravity, A is the bending modulus and λ is the density of the hair. A is defined to be A = { E pi d^4 } / { 64 }… E is a constant equal to 4 gigapascal and d is the average diameter of the hair… L is the length of the switch of hair in the ponytail… R is the ponytail radius… s is the arc length from the clamp on the ponytail… P is the pressure due to the clamp… and ρ is the hair density rho = { N } / { pi R^2 }… where N is the number of hairs in the ponytail. Rs is the partial derivative of R with respect to s. The Rapunzel number (Ra) is the ratio Ra = { L } / { l }."

"What numerical values did you use?" Dr. Necessiter was back on his feet. He looked excited.

"The average density of human hair," Atsushi replied. "1.3 grams per cubic centimeter." Also, a bending modulus ( A ) of 8 × 10−9 Newton meter squared… a linear mass density of hair Lambda of 65 micrograms per centimeter and the major diameter of the hair of 79 plus or minus 16 micrometers. N was taken to be 100,000 - the average numbers of hairs on a human head. The constant E was that of nylon which is similar to hair in its bend and twist moduli. The length L was taken to be 25 centimeters. The values give a length at which gravity bends a hair of l = 5."

"But what about the second and forth order derivatives!" Dr Hfuhruhurr was standing at attention. He held his glass eye in one hand, having had it jump out of its socket during _his_ mental and physical convulsions.

"The authors found empirically that by ignoring the second and fourth order derivatives of R with respect to s in the equation allowed for an exact solution to the equation that produced an excellent fit to the observed ponytails." Atsushi specified. "We found that the spread of the ponytail around the anteroposterior axis was symmetrical and made an angle of about 17 degrees with this axis. This angle was approximately constant in all the lengths tested."

"What does any of this matter?" Kaname took a step back sharply when she saw the look on the ponytail lover's face. "I mean… what does it all mean… here… now…" She soon wished that she had kept here mouth shut. The learned men and women gave a five-minute explanation of possible ways to integrate those findings into the physical arrangement of machine wiring, and how they could be used to determine the paths of particles in quantum mechanics theory.

"I need a vacation," Kaname quipped. "But I don't think that I will look very good in my white bikini as I am now." She thought back to the class trip to the beach, the one underneath that huge cliff. She thought about buses, sand, watermelons, and a meeting with a driver dressed as a butler. She did want to think about shotguns, exploding villa walls, an irate cute but frail boy, or another clueless boy who ignored the swimsuit. Floating down from that high cliff with that balloon had been somewhat special, however.

"I don't know," Anne said, having heard Kaname's words. "I think that you would look fetching. I'm sure the girls would all agree." She looked in the direction of the female scientists. The religious ladies had all taken their leave. "But I know you would rather be back in your own body. Back in your own brain." The way that she said that last part made it sound as if she were referring back to the earlier conversation.

"By my brain," Kanam said. "You man _my _brain, not my brain and partly Sousuke's brain, right?"

"Yes," Anne said, looking pensive. "And… after all your experience with the religious aspect of things… and… well… if things haven't gotten strange enough for you as it is. I'm-"

"**A witch!"** Dr. Necessiter said. He had had his fill of the growing bromance between Dr. Hfuhruhurr and the pony-dude. He felt as if he had been jilted and left alone at the altar. "A _real _witch!"

"That's rude," Kaname said in defense of the other woman. "Anne was-"

"It's alright, Kaname." Anne said. "He's right. It's not something I'm ashamed of… but it's also _not _something I tell many people." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "I'm a Witch. And I may have a way to help keep your mind pure, by keeping your spirit separate from Sousuke's."

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Kaname's head was spinning.

Had she gotten off of the bus to Crazy Town? Was this some kind of an elaborate joke? She pinched herself for the hundredth time that day, but still did not wake from some kind of dream. "Witch craft. Like that movie 'Hocus Pocus'… or … what was it… 'Kikki's Delivery Service'?

"No," Dr Hfuhruhurr said, leaving Atsushi to work with people who had better use for his theorems. "It's more like 'Bewitched'." He was a big fan of old American TV program. "She just twitches her nose, and things happen." He glared back at Anne who looked as if she wished that she could just wiggle her nose and turn him into a toad. "Wait until you meet the others later today."

"Others?" Kaname asked, with a sense of trepidation.

"You know Mithil," Hfuhruhurr said "Leave no stone left unturned. There is another avenue to examine… another corelate to religion as most people view it."

"Let's not confuse the girl any further," Anne said. She turned to Kaname. "I know you've already been bombarded by brains, intelligent horses, and a man who loves ponytails… but I have to ask for your patience… I need to explain some things first… so you will understand."

"You'll need a lot of patience," Dr Necessiter said. He'd had 'the talk' before. "Or you'll become a patient!"

"_Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_ Kaname surprised herself and everyone present with that shush. She went to fluff her hair automatically, sighing when she found it naturally was not there. She missed the lustrous feel an that soothing blue color. "Anne….."

"First," Anne said. "I'm me. I'm just the same Anne you've known from this morning to now." She looked as if something in her past had hurt her. Many times, maybe. "I'm not going to hex you or charm you… I'm not going to cast some kind of evil spell on you." She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I trust you." Kaname said. Her sincerity was obvious.

"I did, too" Dr Hfuhruhurr "I asked her to help with my eye."

"Me too," Dr. Nececsster added. "My one tooth was only chipped a bit. Look at me now." He smiled. One engineer almost passed out.

"Boys," Kaname said. "Always so needy… looking for a girl's attention." Kaname saw an image of Sousuke's face. 'Why didn't that warmongering wimp look for attention. Her attention. Wait. What am I thinking? Nevermind!'

"Yes," Anne agreed. "They're a plague upon this earth.' She smiled, looking at Sousuke with a knowing look. She could guess the other girl's feelings, even if the girl couldn't quite do it herself full time. "Unless you find the right one. That one will be the cure, not the disease." She nodded her head. "Do you know what witchcraft is?"

"I-" Kaname thought a moment. Then she told everything that she knew, every bit of which had come from bedtime stories, magazines and books, and of course televisions and movies.

"That's what I expected," Anne said. "In oversimplified terms, Witchcraft is the practice of magic and sorcery to positively or negatively influence a situation or person. Your experience shows that stereotypical concepts of witches are still kept alive in the modern media. There is more to the concept witchcraft than an evil old hag and her black cat practicing black magic."

"There's a real sexy pole dancer who dresses up as a witch," a custodian said, sent over to clean up the mess that resulted when two opposing girls got into a food fight. "She doesn't need a spell book to petrify me."

"Righteous," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. He and Dr. Necessiter pumped their fists in the air.

"That would be Elizabeth Moundsgomery," Dr Necessiter said.

"No," the janitor said. "She's pretty sweet, too. The one I fall in love with every time is Herheine Granger. And that's one bodacious heine!"

"My I borrow your broom a moment?" Anne asked.

"Well… sure…" The janitor handed the broom to Anne.

"Are you going to use it to fly away?" Dr. Necessiter said, slapping hands with Dr. Hfuhruhurr

"Maybe she's going to dance. It is a short pole after all." Dr. Hfuhruhurr. There was more slapping.

"Kaname," Anne began. "Do you like piñatas?"

"Yes," Kaname said. "One of my school friends in America had a birthday party. She had a piñata."

"Do you know what the similarity is between the piñata that you know-" Anne started. "-And the cow-shaped Chinese version filled with seeds… the Spanish, Italian and Indian versions using a clay pot… the Danish version using a wooden barrel… and in this country, were a similar game called _suikawari _is played where a watermelon shell?"

"No," kaname shook her head.

"They're all struck hard and repeatedly with a stick!" Anne took the broom and began striking the three misogynous men many times apiece. "I would be remiss if I did not include the fine people of Catalonia. They have a Christmastide tradition known as _'fer cagar el tió,' _which translates as 'making the log defecate' A log is wrapped with a blanket several days in advance of Christmas and is 'fed' grass and small prizes. On Christmas Eve, the log is repeatedly struck with sticks in order to make the log 'defecates'. The blanket is then removed to reveal the gifts that have been 'expelled' by the log."

"Oh." There was a glint in Kaname's eyes. "You mean they beat the shit out of it."

"_Exactly,"_ Anne said. She lashed out, raisng more bumps on the trios heads, almost like they were anime characters. "You trash are lucky I'm not Chinese. After _their_ piñatas are broken, the remains are burned and the ashes are kept for good luck. I could use some good luck…." Her face would have caused a large Nile crocodile to defecate some gifts. "Anyone else in the mood to trivialize women?"

"-" "-" "-" None of the men said anything. The custodian went looking for something else to clean. Something else besides his soiled underwear. The two scientists had innocent looks, like those on manga characters who wanted to avoid some kind of punishment. Or some more punishment. They had had enough. At least for now.

"I'm Wiccan," Anne said. "Have you heard of that?"

"Yes," Kaname replied. "But, I don't remember what I heard."

"Modern day witchcraft exists today in the form of Wicca. It has nothing to do with any of the myths about Western Witchcraft that led to the Salem trials or ancient purges in other countries. It is a part of the Neo-Pagan movement. I… all practitioners… draw from old pagan beliefs and worship a goddess and god. Our spiritual system affirms a harmonious relationship with nature… it believes there is divinity in all things. We celebrate the cycles of nature and perform spells to improve healing, wisdom, love and harmony. And, it is worth noting that Witchcraft has been around for more than a thousand years, predating organized, monotheistic religions like Christianity. Our peaceful way of life only became feared under the influence of Christianity, when the Christians' self-righteous viewpoint labelled witchcraft as evil and heretic."

"Are there many Wiccans in Japan?" Kaname asked.

"No," Anne said. "It's a relatively new religion… even though it pulls traditions from one that were present long before Christianity. Some say it's just a new religion masquerading as a very old one. But, for many of us, it's more than a religion… it's a way of life. Wicca is also called 'The Craft,' 'Benevolent Witchcraft,' and 'The Old Religion'. There are many forms of the Wiccan religion: Hereditary/Family Tradition, Shamanic, Gardnerian, Alexandrian, Celtic, British Traditionalist, Dianic, Faerie, Circle Craft and Eclectic are just some of the variety of Wiccan traditions, or paths. In addition to Wiccans, Contemporary Paganism includes Pantheists, Goddess Spirituality folk, Druids, Heathens, Unitarian Universalist Pagans, Polytheist Reconstructionists, Animists, Ecofeminists, ChristoPagans, and other Nature Spirituality practitioners"

"I see." Kaname said. This wasn't the first time that Kaname felt as if she had led a limited life, blind to many things that existed in the world. "How did you…." She didn't want to pry.

"Like a growing number of young women today… some driven by feminist politics… and some members of the #MeToo movement… I was drawn to witchcraft," Anne explained. "In the USA alone, there are about three hundred thousand Wiccans. Worldwide, the number is close to three million." She didn't feel so alone, saying that. "We should head over to the room now."

"You'll be fine," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "We'll be with you… and we really _do_ trust Anne."

"That's right," Dr. Necessiter said. "Wiccans have a firm belief called the Wiccan Rede, which is stated as, 'An' it harm none, do what ye will.' Variations on the rede include 'That it harm none, do as thou wilt' and 'Do what you will, so long as it harms none'."

"It's almost like the Hippocratic Oath," Dr. Hfuhruhurr opined. "First, do no harm."

"It's in this room over here," Anne said, walking out into the hallway and passing by the restroom where Kaname had her 'adventure'. "This was originally going to be the sight of a new scanning technology derived from Black Technology. But, the funding was shunted off to something else." She walked into the room.

Kaname followed. The light was on low. A nine foot circle was present in the center of the room, made with rose petals gathered from every florist within a twenty mile radius. Candles were aligned along the circumference, oriented to the four cardinal directions. At the center, there was an altar.

"Wicca is not a cult," Anne claimed. "We do not proclaim ourselves to be spokespersons for the divine. We do not try to get others to follow us. We do not worship Satan or consort with Demons. Satan is a Christian creation and they can keep him. We do not need a paranoid creation of supreme evil and eternal damnation to scare us into doing the right thing and helping others. We choose to do the right thing and love our brothers and sisters because it _is _the right thing and it feels good to do it. I suppose it is a maturity thing."

"I see," Kaname said. She felt herself growing closer to the woman somehow. She seemed to have such a strong conviction. No. She took a deep breath. She wasn't necessarily going to stgart believing something, just because someone seemed nice and committed. Right! Not before, and not now. She hadn't gaken up a gun or started planting traps at school, had she? She felt an electric jolt go through her system. Sousuke wasn't doing that in her body, _was_ he? She wouldn't have to do it in this body, if everything failed, _would _she?

"We do not sacrifice animals or humans because that would violate our basic tenant of 'Harm None', Miss Uumellmahay said. "Anyone who does that and claims to be a Wiccan or a Witch is lying. We have no need to steal or control the life force of another to achieve mystical or supernatural powers. We draw our energy from within, from our personal relationship with the divine and nature."

"_Oooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o_-kay," Dr. Necesiter said, feeling almost like someone was trying to flimflam him." He wasn't any more convinced this time around than he was the first time he heard Anne speak on the subject. But, at least she had true conviction and was as unselfish as they came.

"**Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr elbowed him hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"So-" Kaname began. "That rule means you don't use the forces of nature or the universe to hex or cast spells on others… just like you won't sacrifice…." She didn't say the word 'animals.'. She thought it. Then she remembered the mascots. "O my god." Those words can just as easily become a saying, not part of a prayer. "After this… I'm going to need a television set. In the lab. Anywhere."

"_Hmmm,"_ Anne nibbled on one fingernail. "I don't think that would be for the best." She had heard reports from someone at the school. Sousuke Sagara was definitely _not_ a proponent of 'Harm None.' "We need to keep you focused. I should also mention that Witches have a very strict belief in the Law of Three, which states that whatever we send out into our world shall return to us three fold, either good or bane. With this in mind, a 'True Witch' would hesitate in doing magic to harm or manipulate another, because that boomerang we throw will eventually come back to us much larger and harder than when we threw it."

"I see," Kaname said. "That sounds similar to the Law of Sousuke. If you send him out to do something simple and straightforward, he always misconstrues something, and the results come boomeranging back. Three times a bane? You're lucky. That's nothing compared to him. _Hmmm-mm-mpf!"_

"I'm here. I hope I'm not late." A man came in that Kaname did not know. He was tall and slender and looked like he ate well and exercised regularly.

"This is Glenn Martin," Anne said by way of introduction. "Glen is Wiccan, too. He will help me in the rite. He was a cheerleader in high school."

"Hey! Don't make that sound like I'm some sissy!" Glen knew that he was being teased. The two of them were very close. Very. "It's not like there's some girl inside me wanting to get… out…" He felt like a buffoon. Looking at Kaname, he said "Sorry, Miss Chidori."

"It's okay," Kaname said.

"He was also a street magician as a young boy," Anne said. "But, the magic he does now is something entirely different. On the side, he's an aspiring Philosophy teacher." She saw Kaname make a face. "Don't worry. There's no such thing as Philosophical Physics." Kaname sighed and looked content.

"But there _is_ Theoretical Physics," Dr. Necessiter remarked. "They'll be paying you a visit shortly, along with _thrfldrftrphyl."_ Dr. Hfuhruhurr held a hand over his mouth.

"Don't fry the girl's neurons!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "One thing at a time."

"Out of a large backpack that he had carried in, Glen took incense representing the element air; a bowl of water representing the element water; a bell; a disc with a five-pointed star; a chalice; a mixing cauldron and herbs; and a wand."

"I love a man who's well-prepared," Anne said. "She added an athame to the gathered items, after removing it from the altar. She also unwrapped some ritual food that she had asked another Wiccan to prepare post-haste. "In all ways." She didn't explain what she meant, but smiled when Glen blushed. This would not be a complete version of the Rite. That would require the two of them to go somewhere in seclusion and have sexual intercourse.

"That knife looks mighty sharp," Dr. Necessiter said, feeling a bit shaky.

"Idiot," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "It's a ritual knife. They're used for many purposes, but_ never_ for cutting."

After a short period of preparation for the Rite, Anne and Glen exchanged food. Glen held the knife, and Anne the chalice, filled with wine. Glen held the knife high above the chalice, blade downward. Both he and Anne chanted "All fruits of the Earth are fruits of your union…Your Womb, your Dance, Lady and Lord. Come, join with us, feast with us, enjoy with us."

Glen said "As the athame is to the God."

Anne said "So the chalice is to the Goddess."

Glen lowered the athame into the chalice. They both said "And together, they bring blessedness."

Anne rung the hand-bell, getting ready to perform the spells that would help Kaname stabilize her true essence and keep it pure from any mixing of thoughts.

Bells are repellers of evil spirits. Bells are associated with the divine. The sound that they make is symbolic of creative power. Their shape is a symbol of the female force and the celestial vault. The sound vibrations created by the ringing of bells possess spiritual power. Hand bells may be rung in rituals to enhance harmony and augment power. The clear, healing tone of a bell that Anne wrung was intended to call in positive, desired energy influences. It called in something else.

"Whoa," a male voice said. "Was that the dinner bell?"

"No," a woman's voice said. "It's a wedding bell, if the love of my life is there." Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, I'm certainly up for ringing someone's bell," a third voice said, with sexless sibilance. "For starters."

"And I'll be more than happy to ring the funeral bell," a third man said. "But… it will be a closed casket ceremony."

"Most definitely," a second woman said, her voice deep and gruff. "And when we're done with everyone in here, they'll all fit in one wooden box." She laughed with the rest of them as they made their way into the room.

"It _can't_ be," Anne said. The three men all had scraggly beards. They were dressed in orange jumpsuits, and had broken chains attached to ankle bracelets. The women looked haggard and much older than their true age. Their hair looked like squirrels had hijacked it to make nests. They wore yellow jumpsuits. Like the men, they had multiple visible tattoos. And each carried a large piece of metal, looking like broken off bed rails. Sharp pieces of metal had been rammed down the openings.

"No Christmas cards for Security this year!" Dr. Necessiter had already been shocked by the Pony Man arrival. This was something in an entirely different galaxy.

"And no secret stash of booze again!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr knew about the intruders, too.

"Who are they," Kaname said to no one in particular.

"Oh… don't say that," one man said, his dentition bad. Teeth were missing. Some of the remaining teeth were broken and jagged, as if he had been hit with a rifle butt. "I'm sure you must remember us. We will never forget you, Sergeant Sousuke Sagara, sir!" He saluted Kaname in mock fashion.

"You're my sweetheart," one of the women said, rting to fluff her hair buy getting her hand stuck. "How can a woman forget when a man touches her breast that way!" That had Kaname gritting her teeth. What had Sousuke done? The answer came swiftly: "Putting a live stun grenade down a woman's cleavage… well that's just like a proposal, _isn't_ it. The other three escapees shared their own violent history with Sousuke Sagara, agent of Mithril.

"Those five are prisoners here," Anne told Kaname and Glen. "They were imprisoned in another section of this floor. Something needed to be kept secret. It's-"

"Because I hear words in my head," one young man said, a huge scar-crossing one white filmy eye. Another souvenir of a fight with a certain Sergeant. The young man seemed to be about Kaname's age. "Really smart words." He spoke with a mechanical cadence. "Fiber-optic lasers to revolutionize directed energy systems. Combing multiple fiber laser modules to form a single, powerful, high-quality beam. Cold Fusion with a Palladium cathode and Deuterium-rich rich fluid bypassing the Theory of Relativity. High efficiency resonance ionization. Shit like that."

"Whispered," Anne mouthed.

Kaname nodded her head. She had guessed correctly.

"Th-they're…" Glen swallowed hard. "Escaped mental patients?"

"Be careful what you say, pretty boy!" One woman shook a sharp slat of steel at the Wiccan man. "Or I might go Psycho on you!" She shrugged. "Well… I was going to do that anyway…."

"I'll explain later," Anne said quietly. But, one of the small mob had very acute hearing.

"Their won't be a tomorrow for the Suck-Ass Sergeant,' the scarred man said. "And, there won't be any witnesses." His words were plain. He wasn't implying blindfolds… removing only one person from the room…or any anything like that. The man was suggesting a final solution for all of them.

"We should do something," Dr. Necessiter said. "This is totally FUBAR."

"That's right," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "one of us should stop them or delay them until help arrives."

The two men shoved Anne towards the invaders.

In Japan, drugs have traditionally been sold by people with links to organized crime. Much of speed available on the streets of Japan is sold by directly by the yakuza or by members of motorcycle gangs or immigrants. Japanese reportedly find buying drugs from immigrants a less frightening experience than purchasing them from the yakuza.

Dealers come from all walks of life and employ a number of different methods. An increasing number are operating out of clubs and bars in entertainment district or through Internet and cell phone networks. Many dealers are foreigners. Of the five hundred smugglers and dealers arrested that very year, over one hundred and fifty were non-Japanese. Many drug dealers in Tokyo are Iranians. They primarily sell stimulants in parks and parking lots. Some offer fake telephone cards, cocaine, heroin shabu-shabu and hashish.

The scarred man was an Iranian crime boss known as the 'King of Fear.' At such a surprisingly young age, he reportedly ran a one thousand-dealer ring, and had the distinction of once beginning training to be an Olympian wrestler. He was also an arms dealer, thanks to a connection to terrorist groups in western Africa, who had been switching their business to Japan in search of higher profits. And just before his capture, The King had been selling his Whispered information to the highest bidder. That was what brought Mithril into their world. Mithril and Sousuke Sagara.

"Sagara," the King said. "You did us a favor, in a way. Before you and those other assholes took us down, you also took out a lot of the competition." Sousuke, Kurz, and Melissa had taken down a number of drug gangs before they found the one they had been given intel on. The Whispered target had been found and taken into custody. Many men and women died. None escaped. The five survivors in the particular drug cell that they assaulted were handed over to the police. "The Chinese were growing too powerful. You jack-wads saved me a lot of men and a lot of time. Same with the damn Dutch. You also took out some yakusa bastards who were taking big cuts in way of a commission. We didn't dare touch those guys ourselves."

"That's right," one woman said. "When we get out of here, we will be the only group in Japan that still has a meth lab. We'll undercut those fucking smugglers in China, North Korea, Taiwan and the lab owners in Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines."

"And we have plenty of people left in places you never attacked." The Whispered man gave Kaname… Sousuke to him… the finger. "It's a good thing you found me early. And I can't thank you enough for my being brought here. It's better than the goddamn Shima National Park Amanemu or Ritz-Carlton Kyoto. Why, the room service is quite special, and the meals have to be tasted to be believed." He spat. The spit landed in the ceremonial chalice.

"It's party time," The King said. "So… let's parrr-rr-r-tay…" He and the other criminals started walking towards their intended victims. The King headed straights towards Kaname/Sagara.

"It's a party," a voice said. One that Kaname thought sounded somewhat familiar. "And we were not invited. Washio… check my datebook… see if you overlooked this cheerful celebration." A young man stood at the doorway now. It was Masatami Hyuga.

"No Master, there is nothing here," Washio said, adjusting his bowler hat. "The only entry is your doctor's appointment. I m must say, master, but the clinicians here are doing a wonderful job with you. I will give them a call and let them know that you might be a bit late,…if you want to thank the man who showed you the way." He looked over at the man he knew as Sousuke Sagara. The man who had defeated him during a confrontation at the mansion.

"Please do so," Masatami said. He was eyeing the five drug dealers who had stopped their assault, turning to see if there was a significant threat. One laughed at the boy. Two others snickered. 'It's so cute,' another said and 'Can I keep it'. Those actions did not please the master or his servants.

"It might do you better to keep your arms and legs," a bespectacled man in a white chef's outfit said. I'm Sameshjima, and my mercenary name was Sammy the Slasher. I would be very happy to show you how I got that name." He did fancy moves with a sword and a long knife.

"I like to think that anyone who makes fun of the master has a hole in their heart," the stubble-faced Hyodo said. He raised up his multi-shot crossbow. "Doesn't make me feel so bad that way, when I give them_ another_ hole in their heart."

"Your axe, master." Washio handed Masatami a small-sized axe. It was a United Cutlery M48 Hawk, something the master had fallen in love with, after reading an advertisement in a mercenary magazine. Masatami believed that the claims were true, and that an axe has more reach and requires less dexterity than a knife… can be useful with less training… and might be a plus where visibility is low. Glancing blow causes more damage with axes. And, they can be more than just weapons on an adventure. They could be used to chop would and perform other useful tasks.

Thank you, Washio" the master said. said. "Let us all remember our creed. One I owe to Sergeant Sagara. "Don't give into weakness!" He had become a gym rat, after the doctors at this hospital had helped him begin the difficult process of overcoming his autonomic inbalance, and his yearnings for a traitorous cousin that had left him in a state much like PTSD. "We always show guts! We always show spirit!"

**"Guts!"** Washiol said, brandishing his umbrella.

"_Spirit!"_ Hyhodo shook his crossbow.

"I still have a spare knife," Sameshima pleaded. He did not agree with the choice of an axe. It didn't seem refined. And, he considered the weapon to be very bad choice for close-quarter combat. There simply isn't room for swinging an axe in all situations, and both the backswing and the follow-through can be hazardous to your comrades in case you miss.

"I told you my decision before," Masatami said sternly. "And a man does not go back on his choices. Sagara said that my baseball bat with nails was just for show." He swung the axes in vicious slashes. "This is not for show. With an axe, I can do anything." Sousuke wasn't his only inspiration. He had read a story in that magazine.

In World War Two, a Russian cook by the name of Ivan Sereda was preparing porridge for his hungry comrades who were off on patrol. Unexpected, two tanks of the 10th Tank Regiment of the 8th German tank division showed up. Ivan only had two weapons available to him, a carbine and an axe. What could he possibly do with them against the tanks? Most men would have run away. But, he would not abandon the meal he was cooking to the foe. So, he first thought to hide in the field kitchen. And, he was content to do only that as one tank passed by. But, the second tank ran through a part of the kitchen, and stopped. The kitchen would make a useful trophy for the tankers. The tank commander stuck a head out of the tank and laughed, saying something to the remaining members of the crew.

"Hende Hoch!" Ivan called out in German, 'hands up.' He ran towards the tank with his carbine up. He was filled with rage. No one was going to steal the porridge that he was making for his boys!

The German, seeing the Russian soldier running towards him, dived into the hatch. He ordered the gunner to fire the machine gun, which he then did. The shots missed the angry enemy.

Having picked up a piece of tarpaulin, Ivan jumped on the tank and covered the vision slots, depriving the tankers of their view of the outside. The machine gun continued to fire, until the cook bent the barrel with two blows of his axe. Next, he began to hammer that axe on the hatch violently, giving commands to non-existent comrades: "Surround them, boys! Use your grenades to disable the tracks. Bring up the anti-tank weapons. Surrender. Ganshiki. Hende Hoch!"

The tank crew was stunned and blinded. They were clearly confused. How many people surrounded them? Should they drive blind? What if there was ZiS-2 57-mm anti-tank gun? Or a 100mm BS-3 field gun? And the grenades. They must RPG-43 with shaped charge HEAT warheads. Hatches opened. Tankers climbed out. Ivan remembered his carbine, and told the enemy tankers to drop their weapons and to bind one another with rope that he threw them. When his comrades returned from their patrol, they found the cook sitting near a captured tank and the bound captives.

"If a cook can take out a tank with an axe," Masatami said with confidence. He had worked hard to overcome his psychosomatic issues, and had tried to build himself in the image of the victor from that life-changing day. "Just think what a master can do!"

Sameshima opened his mouth to say that a cook like him could do much worse equipped with knives, but knew that his opinion would be rejected once again. He would just have to show the master how good a knife and a sword can be.

"We should remember to be polite," Washio said to the master.

"What?" Masatami looked confused at first, but soon smiled and nodded his head. "Quite so." He turned to Kaname. "Sergeant, would you like first crack at them?

"Oh… well…" Kaname was flustered at first. Stop. Think. What would Sousuke say? "Emmmm." She stood tall and straight, as if she were reviewing troops on a training filed. "Even a tank would be boring. And, I am not here on duty. If you want to gain combat experience I don't wish to stand in your way." She grinned. An evil idea came to mind. Things would not go well, for the escaped prisoners, who were facing off against the odd looking newcomers, wondering if they should attack first, or make a quick run at their Mithril captor. "I would also never deny a man a chance at revenge. Those women are traitors. They are traitors to men. They made promises they would not keep. They laugh at the men that they cheat on. They invite them to their weddings."

"Those… _those_… _**those**_…" Masatami fought to find the word that he wanted. He had worked hard to become more than a frail boy physically; but, he wasn't a rude boy at heart.

"Bitches, master?" Washio offered helpfully. He was the ideal man-servant.

"Those _bitches,"_ Masatami said. "Make them surrender at the very least. It's time I repay my debt to the sergeant."

"It may be a bit premature… and I'm thankful for the rescue," Anee said. "But could you keep from stepping on the circle… please.

The fight didn't last long. It also wasn't much of a fight. The prisoners were tough street-hardened individuals. They had each killed many men in their degenerate lives. But, they would have stood a better chance jumping into a large industrial meat grinder than facing that axe-wielding youth and his deadly servants. Hopefully, for the sake of the vanquished, the hospital had physicians who were skilled at reattaching limbs, and closing large wounds. A visit from an oral surgeon would also be quite useful. But, if things were left the way they were for too long, it would not be a problem: there was no doubt a Morgue on the premises.

After the rescuers went on their merry way, the young master happy to be able tell a positive story to his doctors and counselor, Anne and Glen gathered up their wits and finished the spells and ceremonies that they had promised. Kaname didn't feel any different than she had before the Wiccan ministering. But, with what they were attempting to prevent, she shouldn't expect to notice any changes.

"I hope that did the trick," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "I think it might have cured my constipation."

"No, the ruffians did that," Dr. Necessiter quipped. "I thought you were going to shit yourself."

"Ummm… doctor…" Kaname pointed at Dr. Necessiter's feet. He was standing in a big pool of urine.

"_Furbie!"_ Dr. Necessiter looked embarassed. "There will be no mention of this to anyone." He folded his arms across his chest, a menacing look in his eyes. "Or else someone might hear about the time we went to do research at the animal hospital… you got drunk… and you seduced the goat."

"**Gah!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr blurted. "Mum's the word. Mum's the word." He looked even more unhinged when Kaname said 'More mums….'

"Back to the lab, everyone." Anne said. She told Glen that he could come with them. She whispered in his ear 'You can cum without them when we're done hear.' He tagged along, whistling a happy tune.

Kaname wasn't so happy at the moment. No, it wasn't the same earlier disdain that she felt about having to have her soul examined under a microscope, or have her brain squeezed dry of every thought that she had. The encounter in the ritual room had helped her begin to understand what it meant being a high school boy who worked for a super-secret organization.

How many people were there in the world that he had foiled, captured, or killed? How many held grudges, and were hoping some day to settle the score? "It happens at school, too." Her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything today. Thinking about Sousuke, adversaries, and food together made her know exactly what she wanted for breakfast.

"I want a croquette sandwhich, and a custard-filled pastry," Kaname said. She thought about Mr. Kogure, and his grudge against Sousuke. The gym teacher was still on administrative leave, after trying to sabotage the food that she and her friends were selling, with insect parts, laxative, and tiny needles. "But I would like my food without the traps, thank you very much!"

At least, with Sousuke posing as Kaname Chidori, there wasn't any need for traps. Right? He'd be sure to listen to her when she told him not to do anything weird, or anything dangerous. Right? Just the way that he _didn't_ listen to her about not setting traps in the food. An electrical trap. A tear gas trap. Thoughts about numerous other acts of disobedience came rushing unbidden into her mind. She grew more worried with every step she took.

"I think I lost my appetite," she said. "And I need borrow a smart phone, or an iPad."

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"We'll just have to see who's waiting for us," Anne told Glen

"What?" Glen looked a bit confused at first, but snapped his fingers and said. "Right! I remember what you said on the phone. It will be very interesting, whoever it might be.

Kaname wasn't eager to see what else Mithril and the hospital administrators might have dreamed up. She also fervently hoped that the Kaname Rule of Threes had taken the day off. Things tended to happen in threes for her. She already had two unexpected visitors today. Well, one visitor and one visiting group. She didn't count the drug dealers… that was Sousuke's past, not hers.

"Who's next," Kaname said quietly to herself. "Yakusa from the Mikihara Gang? Akutsu and her group? Ahhh-" She stumbled over the next name. There was no reason to feel uneasy. She hadn't done anything against the law, and she had paid her secret debt. Also, what were the odds that she or Sousuke would run into her again. "Forget Wakana." Sousuke is such a magnet for trouble! "At least Gauron and those A21 guys are dead. I sure hope there isn't an A22." No kidnapping! No Arm Slaves in the city! And no ghosts! Or people pretending to be ghosts! They were in a hospital, true; but, it wasn't a burned-down hospital. She calmed down, thinking about a bicycle ride with Sousuke that night; he had admitted he was finally afraid, when he thought that she was seriously injured. "There better not be a Japan Post guy showing up with a thermos filled with the Full Monty Virus!" Necessiter and Hfuhruhurr nude? Anything but _that!_

"_That's_ who it is," Anne remarked. "I wasn't sure if she would be easy to find. Or, if she would consent to come. I'm glad that she agreed to leave Okinawa. She has never been to comfortable around mainland Japanese.""

"Yuta _do _like payment," Glen remarked. "And… because you asked… she might consider it professional courtesy."

"They're here too," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said without clarifying. "I knew they couldn't miss out on something like this. I wonder if they will come up with something useful."

"Posh," Dr. Necessiter sneered. "We don't need _them_. We need more quantum engineers."

So," Kaname said. "Who are the Mystery Dates?" She felt a sense of foreboding after making that joke. What if it was more hormonally driven clingy girls! Why couldn't it be hot boys! No, forget that.

"Our first visitor is Himiko," Anne told Kaname. "That's the only name she goes by, and she has never told me her real name." She walked Kaname over to meet a graying old woman dressed in simple clothing common on Okinawa. "She's a Yuta. A spiritual counselor who claims to sense the will of the spirits, and to be able to intercede with them on a client's behalf. Yuta have also been referred to as 'monoshiri' or 'kamikakariya'."

"I will meet you," Himiko said to Kaname when introduced. "I am yuta. It is part curse and part blessing. Let me tell you this. Nobody becomes a yuta because they want to. Little by little, things happen that tell you that the gods aren't going to let you live or die, and that they will slowly drive you insane rather than let you go. As did others like me, I received my calling through the experience of mental and physical conditions known as _kami-daari_. The only cure for that insanity was for me to fulfill my spiritual obligations by searching out a special patron among the _kami _and serving her. I shall not tell you her name."

Himiko questioned Kaname about her past, especially about her childhood and everything she knew about her closest relatives, as many generations back as she could remember. She consulted privately with her deity… questioned the spirits… and made her diagnosis. "I have found things about your ancestors that may be laying heavy on you. None of that would have caused your hardship. I believe that your mother's spirit is haunted by the fact that she never had a chance to help you grow into a woman. But, that is not the source of your difficult situation. I sense a powerful and angry spirit. I will need to banish it."

After the yuta performed her shamanistic cure, she had one final thing to tell Kaname. "I have correctly predicted tsunami and earthquake alike. And… I am sorry to say… I sense a catastrophe coming for you."

"You probably sense Sousuke," Kaname said flippantly. "He's a walking catastrophe. If he went up against a tsunami and the earfthquake that caused it, neither one would stand a chance against him."

"No," Himiko said with certainty. "The catastrophe will separate the two of you." After that, she left to head back to her island home, a good deal wealthier than when she arrived.

"I have people to introduce, too." Dr Hfuhruhurr ran through a list of names. "They are all Theoretical and Experimental Physicists." They were also the cutest and most handsome men that Kaname had ever seen. She felt like thanking her lucky stars, but quickly shook off that idea. It wasn't because she was in Sousuke's body… and admittedly, that would make any kind of attraction very strange. If she flirted with those guys in her own body, she would somehow feel like she was a traitor, thinking as she did about the way that Masatami viewed his cousin as someone who had betrayed him. But, would Sousuike even care?

"Glen, look." Anne was standing near Kaname too. "Thank our lucky stars. They made it, too." She told Kaname that a wlman claiming to be a Japanese Witch had arrived, as had an Onmyouji."

"How-" Kaname felt flustered. Not this again. Two competing groups at the same time. She didn't feel like being the rope in another scientific and religious tug-of-war. She had come out of the last melee feeling like a piece of taffy that had been stretched way too far and far too many times.

"Theoretical physics is a branch of physics that employs mathematical models and abstractions of physical objects and systems to rationalize, explain and predict natural phenomena," Dr Hfuhruhurr explained. "This is in contrast to experimental physics, which uses experimental tools to probe these phenomena."

"The advancement of science generally depends on the interplay between experimental studies and theory." Dr. Necessiter added. "Theoretical physics consists of several different approaches. Some scientists might employ empirical formulas to agree with experimental results, often without deep physical understanding. Others but to model speculative theories that have certain desirable features or apply the techniques of mathematical modeling to physics problems. Some attempt to create approximate theories, called _effective theories_, because fully developed theories may be regarded as unsolvable or too complicated. Other theorists may try to unify, formalise, reinterpret or generalise extant theories, or create completely new ones altogether. Sometimes the vision provided by pure mathematical systems can provide clues to how a physical system might be modeled. We can use their help in confirming our theories about what happened, and they may be able to help us judged ghe effectiveness of our mechanical constructs."

"Don't go off the deep end, Nessie," Dr Hfuhruhurr said. "Kaname cannot swim in physics like you can. She'll drown, and all of our work will go to waste." He saw a donut, picked it up off of an unsuspecting engineer's plate, and handed it to Kaname. "Here. A present. It's a life preserver." It _was _shaped like the floats thrown off of ships in old movies. "Theoretical problems that need computational investigation are often the concern of computational physics. We have one of those gents with us today, too."

"I'm blessed," Kaname said. "Starving, she took a small nibble of donut. Before she knew it, she began attacking the pastry the way lions attack a fallen zebra. A flash went off. She looked up to see Glen holding a cell phone.

"It's really quite funny," Glen said. "The way the frosting is smeared all over your face looks like the way cake icing is spread over a baby eating its first piece of cake. I'm certain Sergeant Sagara would love to see this." He looked at Anne, who gave him an adoring gaze. "Maybe we should start a scrapbook for him. He wasn't lucky to be here, to experience all this."

Kaname's jaw fell open. The last remaining crumb of donut made a leap to safety, falling from her tongue. Picture? Sousuke.? Scrap book? Lucky to be here? Had that guy been dropped on his head when he as a baby?! Just how much was she going to have to put up with?

"Hello, Kaname," a familiar voice said. "I had to come and make sure my favorite Sergeant was holding on." That joke only made things worse.

It was Tessa.

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Tessa.

_Tessa and Theoretical Physicists._

_**Tessa acting all cutesy with Theoretical Physicists.**_

A Japanese Witch.

_A Japanese Witch and Tessa._

_**A Japanese Witch and an **__**Onmyouji and a very cutesy Tessa.**_

"_Ooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o_."" If Kaname was a fitted pipe, there would be jets of steam shooting out from a failing seam. "What did I ever do… or my relatives do… or some damned spirit do for me to deserve _this!"_ She was overreacting. Tessa wasn't anathema to her. But, she just didn't want people that she knew to see her like this.

Speak of the devil and he appears. Or she.

"Sousuke," Tessa walked up, after speaking to some of the newer arrivals. She felt a need to trouble the other girl. Well, the girl in a guy's body. She correctly guessed that Kaname needed to break out of a funk. "I mean, Miss Chidori" She had a devilish look in her eyes. "You know… once… when Sousuke and I were together… I said that if people saw us, they would think we were boyfriend and girlfriend." She chuckled. "Now... if we did that... they'd think we were girlfriend and girlfriend..." That was a play on the situation, and a play for Sousuke, if a bit inside out and upside down.

"That-" Kaname had no immediate response for that. She was too tied up in knots, emotionally. And, the possible angles of Tessa's joke were too many to unravel in her current mindset. She could allow the other Whispered a small victory. A very small win.

"I'm sorry," Tessa said, immediately feeling somewhat small. All was fair in love and war... at least that was what she had read. She had plenty of experience with the latter; none with the latter. "I shouldn't tease you." She played with her ponytail. "I can imagine what it might be like if I were in your shoes." She meant that two ways. The body switch. And, being the one that Sousuke appeared to have an actual attraction to. "I guess I'm jealous." But, even so, if there was the slightest beacon of hope, she would set sail for it. "-" She felt a tightness in her chest. The thought that flashed across the picture screen of her mind was unworthy of her: if her brother had a true interest in Kaname, maybe that would open an opportunity of herself and the sullen soldier. Then again... if life gives you lemons, make lemonade...

_"You_ wanted the body swap," Kaname joked, forcing the humor. Her eyes went wide. What would have happened if _she_ and Tessa had swapped bodies, and not Tessa and Sousuke. What would Sousuke have done _then?_ She closed her eyes and rubbed them. No sense running down that mental track. "Be careful what you wish for," she continued. "Sousuke, that is. He's... not... easy!. I mean… it... he... _every_thing... is so frustrating. I can't ever really tell if he likes me or not. It makes me doubt my own feelings. And I have enough doubts. Will I be captured? Will Sousuke dike protecting me, our far away in some battle? What will either of us be doing after we graduate? What kind of life would I have with Sousuke? Would we get married on a submarine? During an A.S. battle? With Al as the best man? With you as the **piñata** at the reception? And with a pissed off Melissa holding the stick? Kurz claiming to be the best man?" She needed to calm down. Tessa was not a rival. She was a friend. Or, at least a kindred spirit.

"Wow," Tessa said. "You certainly _do_ have a lot on your mind. A lot more than some simple mind-body transfer." She was only partly joking. The transfer still might be reversed. But, all of those misgivings bubbling to the surface would not. "Maybe we should ask the nice witch if she can make a potion to help you. Maybe she can work a spell that can turn back time, so you both can shape your lives better. Maybe you should ask if she can send you to an alternate reality."

"Right," Kaname snorted. "Frogs. If we were both turned into frogs, he would still find some way to misinterpret everything in the pond. There would be traps for turtles. Fights with fish. Night raids against newts. There would be Piscean panic. Amphibian angst and anger. Reptilian retaliation. And if there were birds, they'd go ballistic." She laughed. "Yes. I wish there was some way to turn back time. Like that can ever happen!"

"I guess you're right," Tessa said. "A snake can shed its skin… but a leopard cannot change his spots. But if he did…" She twirled her ponytail. "He wouldn't be the same. And I bet you would miss those spots. I know how hard things must be. And I don't want to scare you. But the two of you are in danger together… but you would still be in danger alone." She sighed. She sounded experienced, but she was still a lonely girl. A lonely girl with a big responsibility. A lonely girl who still wished that Sousuke had chosen her. "But… isn't it better to have someone willing to fight for you? And having someone you want on your side?"

Anne was calling over to Kaname. It was time for her to chat with the witch. Tessa told her fellow Whispered not to worry. The witch was a very nice woman.

"Wait… Sergeant… I mean Miss Chidori…." A physicist called out. "I had something we should discuss, in case you have any Whispers that might help us. We are dealing with the unknown here. It is possible that some of the greatest remaining questions in science might give us some clues." He was soon joined by a swarm of buzzing scientists.

"I promise," Kaname said, feeling as if the black cloud floating above her had tripled in size. "I will speak with you guys next." A figurative light bulb went off over her head. The cloud turned into small black streamers and then was gone. "Do you know that we have _two_ Whispereds here today? See that cute silver-haired girl over there. The type that nerds prefer. She much smarter than me. She helped design the most advance submarine in the world." She pointed over at Tessa. "I bet she can help you."

"Well…." The scientists didn't sound convinced.

"She's unattached," Kaname said with a sly aside. The sound of sneakers squeaked, just like they did during basketball game as the Jindai gym. A mass of male missiles were flying at the cute little Captain.

"Tessss-sss-ss-a !"

Kaname could hear the first scientist call out. He must have been the fasted, the boldest, or the one who had fought his way to the front of the mob.

"Miss Testaro-o-o-o-osa!"

Another voice called out. The scientists had zeroed in on their target. They should be leaving Kaname alone for a while.

"Do you know this story? Do you? Do you?" A physicist shouted overt the enteaties of his fellows. "Two scientists work at the same university in different fields. One studies huge objects far from Earth. The other is fascinated by the tiny stuff right in front of him. To satisfy their curiosities, one builds the world's most powerful telescope, and the other builds the world's best microscope. As they focus their instruments on ever more distant and ever more minuscule objects, they begin to observe structures and behaviors never before seen… or imagined. They are excited but frustrated because their observations don't fit existing theories."

"_My turn,"_ another physicist called out. "One day they leave their instruments for a caffeine break and happen to meet in the faculty lounge, where they begin to commiserate about what to make of their observations. Suddenly it becomes clear to both of them that although they seem to be looking at opposite ends of the universe, they are seeing the same phenomena. Like blind men groping a beast, one scientist has grasped its thrashing tail and the other its chomping snout."

"_**Hey, look at me!"**_ Another voice. Another besotted PhD. "Comparing notes, they realize it's the same alligator. This is precisely the situation particle physicists and astronomers find themselves in today. Physicists, using linear and circular particle accelerators as their high-resolution 'microscopes,' study pieces of atoms so small they can't be seen. Astronomers, using a dozen or so new supersize telescopes, also study the same tiny particles, but theirs are waiting for them in space. This strange collision of information means that the holy grail of particle physic… understanding the unification of all four forces of nature will be achieved in part by astronomers."

"Crap," Kaname said, looking quickly around, hoping no one heard her crude exclamation. "Astronomers. I don't need astronomers, too. Just like I hope they don't send in astrologers." Seeing where Anne stood speaking to a well-coiffed woman in a lovely pastel dress, she headed over. The sound of scientists grew fainter, but were still there.

"Tessa… Tessa… over here Tessa."

Kaname felt guilty, palming the men off the other girl. But, Tessa hadn't just stopped by to offer a word of encouragement. She had come by to see if she might be of some use. Two Whispered might be better than one. Hell, the other girl might even find herself going out on a date.

"Tessa," the overfly eager voice continued. " The implications are exciting to scientists because bizarre marriages of unrelated phenomena have created leaps of understanding in the past. Pythagoras, for example, set science spinning when he proved that abstract mathematics could be applied to the real world. A similar leap occurred when Newton discovered that the motions of planets and falling apples are both due to gravity. Maxwell created a new era of physics when he unified magnetism and electricity. Einstein, the greatest unifier of them all, wove together matter, energy, space, and time."

"But no one has woven together the tiny world of quantum mechanics and the big world we see when we look through a telescope," Tessa remarked. "As these come together, physicists realize they are getting very close to a single "theory of everything" that accounts for the fundamental workings of nature, the long-sought unified field theory." She was right. But, it might have been better if she hadn't been. Her response was a match to a pool of kerosene… a red cape to a bull… a bucket of blood spilled in front of sharks.

The 'Tessa' calls were soon drowned out by the sound of buzzing, burping, ringing, and resonating machines that she walked past. "Divide and conquer," Kaname told herself just before she heard a plesant greeting from the witch, whose name was Akko Kagari.

"I thank you for coming out here to help me," Kaname told the woman. She noticed that Akko was wearing a small gold fox-pin on her dress.

"It's my pleasure," Akko replied. "I have ended up visiting many interesting places in my role as a Witch. And I have met many fascinating people. Hopefully I will be able to find out why this place is so interesting…" She waved an arm in a sweeping motion, making reference to the growing mounds of machinery. It was as if the different scientific groups were playing a game of 'Chopped', seeing what they could build with their mystery ingredients. "And why _you_ are so fascinating."

Kaname wondered if the self-proclaimed witch meant that she was fascinating because she was Whispered… because she had undergone the body-mind swap… or both. "If I wasn't so… you know, frazzled… I would think you were interesting, too."

"Thank you," Akko said. "I'll take that as a complement. I generally get a good reaction from people, unlike those who practice Western magic. In Japan, the Shinto religion is itself a shamanistic religion and thus our fellow countrymen do not attach negative connotations to witchcraft. The word "witch" is actually used with positive connotation in the Japanese language, as a female with high skills or fame. Asian witchcraft generally centers on the relationship between the witch and the animal spirits or familiars." She ran a finger over her pin. "In Japanese witchcraft,,, practitioners… mostly women… are commonly separated into two categories: those who employ snakes as familiars, and those who employ foxes. But they are not exactly familiars, in the sense that rabbits are for Chinese witches, who have many practices similar to the Western traditions. Books. Staves. Implements of many types. Extensive knowledge of plants and herbs with occult properties. Clairvoyance. Astrology."

"That-" Kaname couldn't help herself, she had made a face. She couldn't help herself. Mizuki had fallen for Western style astrology hard. She was always looking through horoscope books at school, trying to find clues about how to win Tsubaki's heart. She knew that Eastern astrology was different. Like the Mayans and Indians, the Chinese attach importance to astronomical events, and have developed elaborate systems for predicting terrestrial events from celestial observations.

"Don't worry, dear." Akko had noticed. "I do not practice astrology. And, up front, I should mention that I use foxes. But, they are not the tricksters of legend, trapping people with shape changing or illusion. I do not use them to possess people; rather, I use them to sniff out possession."

Right on cue, a Secuity guard walked in the room. He held a leash. The leash was attached to a golden collar, around the neck of a large and well-groomed fox. "Your… ummm… dog is here, Ma'am. Sorry, but the hospital has rules about animals being off leash."

Immediately after the guard left, Akko took the leash off of her fox, whose name she said was Kashikoi. "She is not evil," she said. "There are traditions that say once a fox enters the employ of a human, it becomes a force of evil to be feared. You have nothing to fear from Kashikoi." The fox was sitting on its haunches, looking at Sousuke's body, sniffing the air. "The guard, that's a different story. I think she would like to nip him in the butt. She hates being called a dog."

The witch told Kaname that she wasn't concerned about Obake… shapeshifters. She didn't think there was anything that would suggest the work of Yūre… the ghosts of the deceased who are stuck between life and death, and can only move on when their unfinished business is resolved, much like ghosts in Western mythology. What she needed to explore, with the help of her fox, was the possibility that youkai were involved.

"My mother told me stories about different types of youkai when I was a child," Kaname said. "There were so many types. There are so many shapes and sizes. But… I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary…" She sighed. "Except exploding shoe lockers… things like that."

"I see," Akko smiled. She had been given a quick run-down on Kaname Chidori and Sousuke Sagara. "Well, not all youkai make themselves visible to humans. And while they may be mischievous at times, they usually resort to nothing more than pranks. You know, like when you can't find your car keys or the TV remote… or like some people…" She glanced over at Dr. Hfuhruhurr and Dr. Necessiter, who were standing behind a control panel, ogling girls. "Their mother finds their pornography out in the open… or their wife finds their secret internet sites…"

"But-" Kaname knew that there was a but.

"There are those spirits who are strong enough to cause droughts, hurricanes, any number of calamities," Akko said. "You know… something like your boyfriend." Her laugh was crisp, like the ring of a fine brass bowl.

"He's-" Kaname was going to issue a denial; but oddly enough, she didn't.

"It's the possessing spirits that I am worried about," Anne continued. "They do far worse than pranks. Tsukimono are almost exclusively youkai or animal spirits invading human bodies. This is rarely a spontaneous event. The youkai possesses the human as an act of revenge, for example, when a human kills one of the youkai's children, or destroys it's home, or something along that lines. Or it could be simple greed, like a fox who wants to eat a delicious treat that it normally can't get its paws on. The reasons are as innumerable as the youkai themselves."

"Treat." Kaname's belly rumbled. Great. Now she was thinking about custard filled pastries. Maybe she could have someone make a run to a bakery.

"Hungry, dear?" Akko asked the fox to get something she had brought with her. The animal dutifully trotted off, and when it returned, it had a large white paper bag in its mouth. It dropped that at Kaname's feet. "It's for you. You can thank Kashikoi. She thought you might be hungry. Go ahead. We've already eaten."

Kaname opened the bag. "But how-" Her mind went blank. She couldn't believe what she saw. There were multiple types of golden-brown flaky pastry. She took one out… bit into it… and quickly caught a glob of escaping custard that threatened to stain Sousuke's shirt.

Anne left the mystery mysterious, as she continued with her talk. "Just as there are countless types of youkai, the effects of the possession vary widely as well. In many possessions the victim takes on the attributes of the youkai or animal. A victim of tanuki possession is said to voraciously overeat until their belly swells up like a tanuki, causing death unless exorcized."

"And they get big balls," Dr. Necessiter added helpfully. He had wandered over, nosey as usual. "Because… you know… tanukis have big…" He couldn't finish. The gaze the fox gave him was unnerving.

"I see," Akko said. "That's not exactly something proper, is it?" Kaname didn't know if the other woman was seriously conversing with the fox, or if she was putting on a show for their unwanted guest. The witch explained: "Kashikoi wonders why a man with raisins is worried about men who have watermelons." She looked down at the fox. "She wonders if the doctor might be possessed by an Oonyuudou. That's a youkai with a tendency to shrink things."

Dr. Necessiter left in a huff.

"Where was I?" Anne said, hiding a grin behind her hand. The fox made no effort to hide its glee, licking its paw and looking pleased. "Uma-tsuki… horse possession… can cause people to become ill-mannered, huffing at everything and sticking their face into their food to eat like a horse. Then there is-"

"**PONY!"**

Someone had heard that last comment. It was Pony Man, of course. For some reason, Atsushi had the horse head back on again.

"Pony… _pony pony pony_…. _**pony pony pony pony… pony?"**_ He was speaking to Anne, but it was Kashikoi who replied _ow-wow-wow-wow-wow _with a yappy bark and_ ack-ack-ack-ackawoooo-ack-ack-ack with _guttural chattering and occasional yelps and howls.

"So _that's_ what a fox sounds like, Kaname remarked.

"Dear?" Akko asked.

"Well… you know… the cow goes moo, the duck goes quack… we all know those…. but no one ever mentions foxes." Kaname "And… well there's a song…." She thought about 'What Does The Fox Say', by Norwegian dance-pop duo Ylvis. It was almost like someone read her mind. Not the Witch. The Pony. Atsushi had taken off his horsehead and began to sing:

"Dog goes _"woof"_  
Cat goes _"meow"_  
Bird goes _"tweet"_  
And mouse goes _"squeek"_  
Cow goes _"moo"_  
Frog goes _"croak"_  
And the elephant goes _"toot"_  
Ducks say "_quack"_  
And fish go _"blub"_  
And the seal goes _"ow ow ow"_

He couldn't help himself. He had to embellish. He added a line: "And the horse goes _neigh!"_ Before he got back to the remainder of the true lyrics, someone stepped. In. It was no shock that Dr Hfuhruhurr found a reason to turn up again. But no one would have expected him to break out into song:

"But there's one sound  
That no one knows  
What does the fox say?

_"Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!  
Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!  
Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!"_

What the fox say?

_"Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!  
Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!  
Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!"_

What the fox say?

_"Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!  
Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!  
Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!"_

What the fox say?

_"Joff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!  
Tchoff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!  
Joff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!"_

What the fox say?"

Kashikoi just turned and looked away from the scientist. Atsushi held his horse head under one shoulder as he made his way out of the laboratory. Akko asked "Has it been like this for you all day?" She saw the look on Sousuke/Kaname's face. No words were necessary. "You have my condolences." She resumed her talk. "In the past, the only way to free someone from a tsukimono was through an exorcist. Usually, those were the wandering Shugendo priests called Yamabushi. They roamed through the mountains, coming down when called to perform sacred services and spiritual battles. But, in the modern day, Witches can perform that function when necessary."

"But… how could it be possession?" Kaname asked. "It's not just me. Sousuke was involved, too."

"There is a breed of sorcerers known as kitsune-tsukai," Akko said. "They are different than my kind. They are said to have invisible kitsune at their command, and can send them to possess people at will. This could also be for any reason, from revenge to profit. A particularly devious type of extortionist kitsune-tsukai would send their kitsune to possess someone, then appear in the guise of an exorcist to drive the spirit out… for a fee, of course. I'm doing this for free."

"I really didn't-" Kaname started.

"You_ should_ be suspicious," Akko said. "We are living in a world where there are things stranger than the spirits. Black Technology is one of them. And we are living in a world where a foe can pretend to be a friend, and a someone charitable can be a charlatan. And, it is far too easy to make any enemy without even knowing it. And enemies have many means at their disposal to take the things they want, or punish the ones who get in their way." She paused. "Question everything you see and hear in this place."

"Yes… I have been…." Kaname said. She cut to the chase. "How can my brain in Sousuke's body be possession?"

"It could go like this. A double possession." Akko began. "You could be possessed by a spirit that suppressed your true memories, and placed Sousuke's memories over yours, like laying a rug over a wooden floor.."

"And someone would have to do the same to Sousuke," Kaname deduced. "Why would anyone do that?" Kaname asked. "Why to _us?"_

"It could be due to something you have done in the past," Akko replied. "It could be because of something you have to offer. It could be because you would make a useful catalyst. It could be many things."

"Catalyst?" Kaname didn't make the connection.

"If I was a fiction writer," Akko said. "I might write a tale about researchers wanting to get a project funded. They might have a wealthy backer, but that might not provide enough capital. So, they could conduct a scheme to bring in other donors, or to have experts in their field provided for free. To start things off, they could bring about something remarkable, and label it an 'accident'. They might already know where Whispers come from."

"That-" Kaname looked around the room, suddenly feeling doubtful and vulnerable..

"As far as I know," the Japanese Witch said. "It really only is the kind of thing you might see in a TV show or a movie. But, it doesn't hurt to keep an open eye and an open mind. Every cause has an effect. Every purchase has a price. And, when people offer you something free, there is often a catch." She turned around and whispered something to the fox. "We will begin the evaluation now, to see if an exorcism will be necessary."

Akko and Kashikoi performed their craft, and the verdict was a good one. There was no possession that they could find trace of. After Kaname thanked them profusely, the woman and her fox left for their next appointment.

When Anne waved her hand again, it was time for Kaname to meet another practitioner. Making her way over to where Miss Uumellmahaye stood waiting, she passed by a larger mob than before. The group had quit calling out 'Tessa,' but were still trying to find out what her Whispers could teach them, or if those random bursts of technologic knowledge would provide any clue to tackling the Big Experiment.

"Miss Testarossa," a man called out. "There are eleven key questions that Physics has yet to answer. First, do you have any clues to what dark matter is?" After that, ten different men asked ten follow-up questions. What is dark energy? How were the heavy elements from iron to uranium made? Do neutrinos have mass? Where do ultrahigh-energy particles come from? Is a new theory of light and matter needed to explain what happens at very high energies and temperatures? Are there new states of matter at ultrahigh temperatures and densities? Are protons unstable? What is gravity given quantum findings? Are there additional dimensions? How did the universe begin?

"And… Miss Testarossa…" The barrage continued. "How did we get here?" That was the ultimate cosmic question.

"How do I get _out _of here?" Tessa said. That was the ultimate call for help.

"I'm sorry Tessa," Kanamed said to herself. "But I'm glad that isn't me. Been there, done that."

She went on to meet an Onmyōji, a practitioner of Onmyōdō, another form of Japanese spiritualism. The kindly old gentleman was accomplished in magic and divination, and was employed by the Japanese government to protect the nation from evil spirits. He also claimed that he could summon and control shikigami and was able to control spirits with 'hitogata', human shaped paper dolls. He also explained that similar to the way that runes, Greek language, and the Orgham tongue was used by Wiccans, writing was thought by Onmyouji to have magical properties. Kanji and Chinese script could be empowered magical energy in order to bring about change. With a brush and ink, the elderly man created a number of Ofuda, rectangles of paper with holy or magical symbols and spells written on them. He used a number to create a protective ward, before performing an examination. He used more to dispel any evil influences that might be inhabiting Sousuke's body, and more yet to block any evil intent that might be aimed at Kanamed's mind.

She felt better when the kindly man said his farewells. But, that was soon replaced by another deep concern. If any of the day's activities had helped her mind and Sousuke's body, what about her body and Sousuke's mind? They were not here. They were at school. No. Calm down. That wasn't really the point of things. Spiritual issues could be taken care of in due time. There was no reason to be concerned about the color-changing ring in that regard. Everyone was doing their best to cover all of the bases.

It still seemed to her that science would hold the true answers, and would offer the only pertinent solution. But, there was no certainty there, either.

Everything felt like a shot in the dark.

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Info was taken from 'The "Clever Hans Phenomenon" revisited,' by Laasya Samhita and Hans J Gross.

Also, 'The 11 Greatest Unanswered Questions of Physics' by Eric Haseltine.

And numerous Google searches.


	11. Chapter 11

_Sousuke should be okay, now._

_As any school age child can tell you, there is _never_ anything to worry about in P.E. class…._

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**PHYSICAL EDUCATION**

Sousuke walked into the meeting room, just as the large hand on the clock signaled the start of the new period.

He scanned the room, and saw only his fellow students. There were no suspicious people or concerning constructs. All of the chairs and tables were pushed to the side walls, though. He tensed up. Was someone trying to build a fortification? Was there some kind of invading force on the way?

"If we are trying to form a barricade, it makes no sense to block the walls, unless the enemy had explosives or a large battering ram," Sousuke said out loud, "The tables and chairs should be stacked up, blocking the windows. Additionally, I had easy access, as the doorway was not impeded in any fashion."

"Kaname… is that bump on your head still bothering you?" Kyouko took a picture of said bump.

"If we _did_ barricade the door, we could have a free period," Maya remarked. "I always worry when they don't tell us what they plan for us ahead of time."

"Like Sousuke," Shiori said. "But he _never _tells us what he has planned for us!"

"And no barricade could keep _that_ guy out!" Mizuki made a face. "He'd blow a hole in the wall just to get in… and then find out it was the wrong room."

"**Right!"** Mayuko added. "Like the girl's shower. Or the Vice Principal's office."

For the next couple of minutes, everyone one chipped into the conversation, telling their favorite or most memorable 'Sousuke Stories.' That had the young soldier seeing things in a rather personal and poignant light. Things they would never say around him, they were more than happy to say around Kaname Chidori.

"We don't even know who the teacher is," Shinji said. "I hope it's not Mr. Kumakawa again." Gen Kumakawa was an assistant athletics director with a fondness for performing arts.

"**Shit!"** Ono-D swore. "The last time we had _him_, that leaping lizard tried to teach us ballet!" He trembled. **"In leotards!"** That had most everyone groaning. "I could see the bulge caused by _his_ lizard. That's not something another guy can un-see, you know…."

"I heard it _was_ Mr. Kumakawa," one girl said. "His name was up on the bulletin board. There was something scribbled about DVDs being ordered for this class."

"Mr. Kumakawa could not make it," a voice called out, as the speaker made his way into the room. "He was distracted by an artful pirouette on his portable television, and fell from his balcony. I have the hospital room number, for anyone who wants to send flowers." It was Mr. Mizohoshi, the Art teacher. "I have been asked to chaperon this session."

"I hope we're not painting a subject again!" One boy still had scars he received from the time Sousuke had been chosen as the subject,

"Even **I** didn't like all that military stuff," Shinji said. To him, military stuff was 'A' number one, unless _he_ was the one in the cross hairs. "That was like our own private Hamburger Hill."

"**Yes!"** Ono-D said. "It's just like the way that maniac uses a gun or explosives to get the last burger or bread."

"_No,"_ Shinji said. "Worse than that. The Battle of Hamburger Hill was a battle of the Vietnam War that was fought by U.S. Army and the Army of the Republic of Vietnam forces against the People's Army of Vietnam during Operation Apache Snow. Although the heavily fortified hill was of little strategic value, U.S. command ordered its capture by a frontal assault, only to abandon it soon thereafter."

"-" The class was silent for a moment. The classroom cricket, hiding somewhere in the wall, could clearly be heard. That explanation had been Sagara-esque.

"That sure_ does_ sound like our field trip to the park." A girl said. "Art class. Theme of nature and people. A confused Sousuke, thinking he must stalk his classmates in the forest. We tried to pick another model, but teacher won't accept it." She looked over at Mr. Mizohoshi who seemed nonplussed. "The entire forest was booby-trapped and everyone was taken out." She swallowed hard. She had been sprung onto a tree covered with a sticky substance. "We fought for the sake of our honor and dignity… but mostly for our grades. Everyone barged into teacher's house, where he and the rest of the staff were having tea."

" Sousuke tried to hold teacher's mother hostage," Shiori said.

"But Kaname here saved the day, as usual," Maya remarked. "She's like a Sousuke-Whisperer."

"I think she's more like Sousuke Kryptonite," Daidai remarked.

"No," Ono-D said. "She's more like an oni!" He was still a bit miffed from that day. As a 'final' wish, he had asked Kaname to date him. She refused. "She threw a teacup in his face hard enough so that the rest of us could capture him and get our paintings done."

"Such a _won_derful day," Mr. Mizohoshi said. "My ma maaa-aa-a has long since recovered from her… what do they call it… PTDD…."

"PTSD," Shinji corrected helpfully.

"Indeed," Mr. Mizohoshi continued. "The psychologist's bill was worth it. Those paintings were fantastic." The class drawings all depicted Sousuke hung upside down from a tree. "I placed them on the internet. They were a sensation. Art classes around the world have been doing the same thing. The trend might even surpass selfies soon."

"I don't see any painting supplies," Kyouko said with a hopeful voice.

"Let me explain," Mr. Mizohoshi said, flipping his hair and striking a dramatic pose. He began speaking very quickly, almost too quickly to follow: _"Performing arts is a form of art where artists use their voices, and bodies to convey a message or artistic expression." _He waved his arm demonstrably every time he spoke the word 'art'. _ "It is different from visual arts, in which an artist use paint, canvas and various materials to create art objects. __The visual Arts give a way to express feeling, emotion, opinion, or taste__ through visual means, for instance, photography, painting, sculpting and drawing." _That had people frowning. Someone suggested recording his voice, so they could play it back slower_. "__Performing Arts have ways to express an opinion, emotion, feeling, or taste__, through means of performance, like, theatre, public speech, music, and more, including dance_." There was an emphasis on that last word, but no elucidation. _"There are other forms of art too; Culinary Art expresses personality, and culture, as well as, atmosphere through the creation of taste and composition of food on the plate. Poetry and writing fall in a category of art called written art. __Visual arts are primarily created for aesthetic purposes__, and judged for its beauty and meaningfulness. Visual Arts include painting, sculpture, watercolor, graphics, drawing and architecture. Also falling in the Visual Arts category is; music, poetry, film, photography, conceptual art and printmaking. People in this field are termed, artists."_ He made that word sound like 'arteests'.

"Here we go again," Tomomi said. It wasn't the first time that Mr. Mizohoshi had gone off the deep end. He had done that at the park, discussing art. That was the reason for Sousuke's confusion that day.

"It's okay," Ono-D said. "If we let him ramble on long enough, there won't be time for… whatever."

"_Performing arts are basically arts or skills that require a performance__ in front of a public audience,_' Mr. Mizohosi plowed forward, unaware of any student conversation. _"Examples are acting, singing…. and dancing…. Other forms of the Performing Arts include opera, theatre, magic or illusion performances, mime, spoken word, recitation and public speaking. People in this field are termed, performers. __In some ways, all forms of art will have certain aspects that can be found in all of them.__ The force behind art forms might be the same, but, it is the way in which it is relayed, that is different. Performing artists use their body or voice to convey the artistic expression needed to be shown. Visual Arts can be defined as something that is created through doing something with your hands."_

"Erotic arts are something where something is done with hands on bodies," one boy said, trying to be clever. "Want me to mime it?"

"Kaname?" Kyouko looked unhappy at the suggestive statement. The way she said that name made it sound as if she were asking for a certain kind of response.

"I-" Sousuke's mind didn't need more than a millisecond to picture the response. But, he had neglected to secure Kaname's halisen. Instead, he picked up a chair and threw it at the cocky comedian. He scored a bullseye.

"**See!"** Ono-D pointed at 'Kaname'. "An oni, I tell you."

"_In both art niches, you can convey cultural messages,"_ Mr. Mizohoshi said._ "Visual art can depict historic places on canvas or through photography, whereas, performing arts can display cultural stories through dance and also through constructing scenes of long ago on a stage. Song and Dance are usually main ingredients in cultural tradition. And-"_

"Thank you, Mr. Mizohoshi." That was the Principal. She had had misgivings about the Vice Principal's choice to replace Mr. Kumakawa. "That was a stirring explanation. We will remember it always. You are dismissed."

"But-" Mr. Mizohoshi deflated. He had only just begun. That was just the groundwork. With a sigh, he left the room. He would find someone to finish his introduction to. Maybe one of the visiting cameramen.

"I'm afraid that with Mr. Kumakawa's absence, this will only be an explanation and a heads up," the Principal said. "Let me start of with a brief explanation of my own. Social dance is a category of dances that have a social function and context. Those type of dances are generally intended for participation rather than performance and can be led and followed with relative ease. They are often danced merely to socialize and for entertainment, though they may have ceremonial, competitive and erotic functions."

Hearing that second-to-last word, Sousuke picked up another chair. It was unnecessary. The boys were in the back corner of the room, cowering. Kaname Chidori was indeed an idol no one would dare approach.

"Thank you, Miss Chidori. You can place the chair here." The Principal pointed at a place on the floor. When the chair was there, she sat down on it. "Many social dances of European origin are partner dances … I should mention Ballroom dance… but this is quite rare elsewhere, where there may instead be circle dances or line dances, perhaps reserved for those of a certain age, gender or social position."

"Like the square dancing we do," Shiori mentioned.

"Yes," the Principal agreed. "Like our Oklahoma Mixers. That's a relatively simple style of dance, that does not require expensive or fancy dress and attire." She looked over at Kaname's body. "Which brings me to the point of all this. Having spent time in America, Miss Chidori suggested that Jindai Municipal High School hold a dance. Atsunobu Hatashimizu and the School Board agreed. She suggested a prom… with free style dancing… but that request was denied."

"I've seen those in American movies," Maya said. "They look like fun. At least… in the movies…." The characters in the films all seemed to be excited or to have fun. Or, there were some kind of comedic escapades. But, in Japan, the overall set-up of that kind of social gathering would cause issues. She immediately questioned her own remark. "That-"

"There is no prom culture in Japan," the Principal said. "For American youth, their upcoming graduation might be a big step to becoming adults. For Japanese youth, they have to worry about studying at a university to get a good job. No time for celebrations. Even so, some Japanese high schools have balls and socials for third year students. That's rare, since in this land, the concept of two people holding themselves close in public is beyond embarrassing."

"Ball," Sousuke said. He had serious concerns. Kaname had been the one to make the suggestion. She had never said anything about it to him. What might the Principal ask him to do, if anything? "Be the Ball… don't drop the Ball… be the Ball… don't drop the Ball…."

"One reason we do not hold proms in this country-" the Principal continued. "-Is that boys and girls in Japan rarely socialize together in high school… it can be difficult to organize a social event if there are hordes of kids who are too shy to ask someone out on a date or have trouble getting a partner. And… outside of the school setting… it's prohibited by the Japanese law to dance in any commercial place in Japan. Clubs often post signs that read 'We don't allow to dance in this establishment'. Free style dancing is considered lecherous or sleazy by restrictive authorities."

"My brother complains about that," Mari said. "Japan is one of five countries that don't allow public dancing. The others are Kuwait, Iran, Sweden, and Germany on Easter."

"There are six," Sousuke noted, unaware of the first five, Japan included. "The same holds true in Afghanistan."

"I here that the rule is going to change here," Shiori said. "Thanks to a campaign championed by the singer Ryuchi Sakamoto." She thought a moment. "My father says it's because of the Olympics. The government wants visitors to have the most fun possible… so they will spend the most money possible…."

"Don't forget the five feet rule!" Maya added.

"_What?"_ Ono-D quipped. He looked down at his feet. "People can't dance because a couple would have five left feet?"

"Kaname?" Kyouko looked helpful. That intrusive joke was less than funny.

Sousuke just shrugged. There were no chairs within easy reach.

"That's true," the Principal said. "In some Japanese high schools, even in normal school activities, boys and girls are not allowed to come within five feet of each other. That would make social dancing difficult. And it's only recently that dances with partners have come out of the closet in Japan. For years, the average person was fearful of the influence that foreign dances had, thinking they were nothing more than furtive groping in darkened halls. Now, they are becoming viewed as a healthy sport."

"Because of 'Shall We Dance'," one girl said. "The first Japanese movie version. And, because of 'Strictly Ballroom'. Those hit films attracted throngs of new fans."

"That's correct," the Principal said. "Up until this very day, the government has regulated social dancing under the 'Act to Control Businesses Affecting Public Morals,' a set of laws present since the Meiji Period in the nineteenth century. But, partly due to those films, ballroom dancing is no longer an elitist import from Europe. It has gone casual, with people today holding parties with canned juice and peanuts, 'throwing their bodies around like an octopus,' as Hitoshi Nakagawa of Dance View magazine once wrote."

"But-" One boy spoke up. "Couples… you know… touch…." His family was very traditional.

"What? Worried about cooties?" Another boy knew American slang like the back of his hand. He was a big fan of foreign culture.

"I know what you're leading up to," the Principal said. "Ballroom dance might seem an uneasy cultural fit here in a society that is used to formal bows rather instead of touchy hugs. Dancers have such expressive faces, while most Westerners view we Japanese as having what they would call poker faces. But, let me tell you an interesting fact. Japan has more ballroom dancers than other country. Ballroom dancing magazines estimate that fourteen million Japanese enjoy the pastime through classes at dance schools, university social dancing courses, clubs, and competitions. They also spend a fortune on tuxedos, chiffon-trimmed gowns, and videos that give tips on dancing the waltz, fox trot, tango, cha-cha, rumba and pasa double. They say they dance to get exercise, to meet people, and to have fun. One of the most common dance numbers is the 1960s pop hit 'Sukiyaki'. Mr. Kumakawa provided a recording of that song." She held up a well-worn CD.

"But-" This time it was a girl who seemed uncomfortable. "My mother told my father not to watch those movies. She said that her great-great grandfather had visited London in the 1880s, and he said that the dancing seemed pointless, and that the music sounded savage. She also said that a ballroom boom occurred in this country after World War Two, when hundreds of dance halls were built for occupying American soldiers. But the dancing was considered a seamy excuse for men to approach to women. And, until recently, most dance schools were located in shady neighborhoods near Turkish baths and pachinko parlors."

"But," Tomomi said. "The most privileged people are doing it now. I used to see executives practicing golf swings while they were waiting for the train. Now, they practice social dance moves on the public platforms."

"**I know!"** Mizuki said with a look of annoyance. "There's one guy that keeps saying 'It makes me feel so alive!'"

"Things are changing," the Principal said. "And… at Jindai High… we are trying to look to the future, not adhere to the past. You know we are one of the few schools in Japan where there is even a single shower, right? And we have two rooms with four showers apiece. We eat in a cafeteria, not our homeroom. We have more than one classroom for each Class. There are few restrictions about jewelry and fingernail polish." She saw someone raise her hand after pointing at Kaname's hair. "I know… hair dying… that was not out choice, and we are working to overturn that ordinance. We in this country have learned that having lots of things supported by a strong economy does not make our lives… or our art… particularly rich. That is why more people are now being drawn to dance… it is the simplest form of art… one which you create with your body and nothing else."

"Please don't say art so loudly," one boy pleaded. He looked at the door, as if he expected Mr. Mizohoshi to sashay back in.

"So, what you are saying…." Kyuoko spoke up. "We are going to learn social… ballroom… dancing? For a school dance?"

"Yes," the Principal said. "But not today, I'm afraid." She gave a number of applauding boys a scornful glance. "With Mr. Kumakawa absent, there is no one in the school who can teach us how to do the waltz… the one social style deemed acceptable at a formal school get-together."

"I know how to waltz," Sousuke said without thinking, immediately regretting being a blabbermouth.

"And so do I," a voice said from the doorway.

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_Large amounts of wording are taken from 'What is the Difference between Visual Arts and Performing Arts? How can each be used in Cultural Events?' from and by Manuel Miller._

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**PHOTO CREW**

"You know," the Norwegian operative said. "It's sure funny how they do things here in Japan."

"How so?" Mr. Magnesium asked. He was switching out a freshly charged battery for one that had grown weak in his camera.

"Spraying their hair black," the woman replied, nodding towards a long line that went into a room that was not a photo set-up. "I mean… really… what's wrong with colored hair!" She was a natural blonde.

"**Guh!"** Mr. Magnesium smacked his forehead hard enough to leave a red mark. "I'm such an _imbecile!" _He wasn't. He was exceptionally accomplished for a man of his young age. He was no Leonard Testarossa, but how many men are?

"Huh?" a large mustached man asked. "Why's that?"

"I couldn't see the forest for the trees," Mr. Magnesium said. "Or the tress for the forest. Whichever one it is. _Damn!"_ He was seething now.

"I still don't-" The man with the handlebar mustache started.

"**That girl!"** Mr. Magnesium said. "The one I had that funny feeling about. Her face. It was her _face."_

"Yes!" A gaunt man with a buzz cut said, his speaking showing that he had front teeth missing. "I know what you mean. He face looked like-"

"The one on the picture we were given," the Norwegian woman said. She snapped her fingers. "The one for our target. For-"

"Kaname Chidori," Mr. Magnesium finished. "Yes. It could be her. We could remove the dye… or examine her roots… but that would be more intrusive than we have been tasked with. That does not matter. I have a simpler way. As a Whispered, I have the ability to tell other Whispered if I can bring about resonance. All I need is to find some way to get the girl to drop her shields, so to speak. Then, if I'm close enough, I can find out one way or the other for certain."

"What's the next step, then?" Mustache asked.

"It's obvious," Mr. Magnesium said, feeling a renewed sense of the hunt. "Everyone will search for the girl, inside the building and out. First, to be safe and to be complete, we will continue to search for a blue-haired girl. Second, we will question the girls we photographed earlier about their personal data under the appropriate pretense, and see if we can draw any responses that suggest one of them might be Kaname Chidori. If we get sufficient clues, we can grab her and question her off site. If it's not the Chidori girl, we can use her for our pleasure and dispose of her in the usual fashion. Third… quickest and easiest, I hope… we find that one girl… we get her upset and off balance emotionally… and I check to see if she is Whispered."

"If she is," the gaunt man said. ""And she is not Kaname Chidori… it's still another fine catch, correct?"

"Indeed," Mr. Magnesium said. "If you are fishing for tuna and you catch a sea bass, it still makes for a good meal. Amalgam wants every Whispered it can find. But, we need to find a good way to get that girl upset, and to let me get close to her."

"I believe that I can be of some help there," another camera-carrying mercenary type offered. His name was Juan de Cervantes, an ex-member of _Unidad de Operaciones Especiales_, the elite special operations force of the Spanish Navy and Marines. "I am very good with the ladies." He had the look of a lothario or a young Don Juan. "And… I love police shows. I believe that this might be a good opportunity for some type of bad cop good cop scenario."

"That girl's class… II-4…. Is in a room down the hall," a heavy-set mercenary with thick-rimmed glasses said. "I listened in. It sounded like they were getting ready to dance, or something."

**"Perfetco!"** Juan said, gleefully. "Dance! My love. My passion. Dancing is a skill every man should have. It's almost like a cheat code." He licked his lips. "Do you see what I mean? Music and dance plays… and has _always _played… a fascinating role in social interaction in nearly every culture. Throughout history, the importance of music has been noted by many an erudite thinker such as Aristotle, Confucius, Einstein, Nietzsche, Plato, Sartre. But arguably seduction has been it's most important and interesting use."

"So," Mr. Magnesium said. "You will try to seduce the truth from her?" He sounded doubtful.

"If I can," Juan said. "Do you know what separates just a good male dancer from one who women love and just can't seem to get enough of? They both need to be good at leading, and to know how to move their body to the music; the difference, however, is that a good dancer will try to show off his own moves while the one who's being asked out to dance again and again will use leading to make his partner look amazing. Can there be a more perfect analogy for seduction?"

"Amen," the Norwegian woman said.

"You extend your hand firmly to show what will happen next and even though she's free to choose whether to follow your directions or not. If you do things properly, she will do so more often than not." Juan posed for effect. A few girls in the hallway came close to swooning. "At no point do you try to force her into a particular position though. You don't have to. For men, leading is seducing."

"Sounds kind of girly to me," a small scarred man with a giant Adam's Apple opined. "Dancing? That's for pansies. Real men learn all they need to know about seduction from movies! 'You need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed, and often. And by someone who knows how'. 'When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible'. 'You're good-looking. You got a beautiful body, beautiful legs, beautiful face, all these guys in love with you. Only you've got a look in your eye like you haven't been fucked in a year'. Stuff like that."

"Yeh! Movies!," a large mercenary in reflective shades said, hair bundles looking like drooping asparagus fronds. "I learned all that I know from movies. 'An Erotic Werewolf in London'. 'Play-Mate of the Apes'. 'Lord of the G-Strings: The Fellowship of the String'. 'Bikini Girls on the Dinosaur Planet'. Those old chestnuts."

"Gentlemen… don't quit your day jobs." Juan just shook his head. "Where was I? Listen up. This one is for free. Leading goes beyond dance. It can take obvious forms, such as introducing topics to the conversation; inviting the woman on dates; suggesting that the two of you move to another venue; offering to take her back to your place; and escalating to sex." He tossed is pony-tailed long black hair. A student who overheard him fell to his knees, feeling unworthy. The nearest girls clutched their chests, not knowing why.

"Don't put the girl into a coma, though." Mr. Magnesium said, secretly taking mental notes. "She needs to be conscious for me to have any hope at resonating. And don't forget that she is a teenage girl," Mr. Magnesium stated with authority. "And, your goal is to get her off balance through any means necessary, not to seduce her as a future conquest. If you play things too close to the bone, Mr. Silver may take an unfortunate interest in _your_ bones."

"Of course," Juan said. "Of course. I have enough women lined up for years to come." The way he said though, sounded as if he never turned down the chance to help someone butt in line. "This will be good practice. And a chance to test what I have been taught. A group of evolutionary biologists looked at the science of bump and grind, and say they have figured out exactly which dance movements catch a woman's eye. For men, hips don't lie, and arms don't matter. Researchers have identified types of body movements that correlate with the best perception of a man by a woman. Larger and more variable movements of the head, neck, and torso. Speed of leg movements, particularly bending and twisting the right knee. _Those_ are what catches a woman's eye.

"I agree," a stout man with a faux hawk said. "It is indeed important to know what women look for in a dancing partner, since dancing ability… particularly that of men… may serve as a signal of mate quality. But dance moves are only part of the equation. Facial attractiveness… body shape… and even perceived socioeconomic status play a role in how people judge the dancing ability of their peers. This country is no exception. In experienced women, and in those shy of adulthood."

"Naturally," Juan said. "That has been the name of the game since the beginning of time. And… speaking of the game…." He nodded to his superior. "If subtle seduction fails, I will use blatant and clumsy attempts to push her over the edge. I will make myself seem like a bad man, one only interested in plucking the flower of an innocent girl. That will allow you to rush to her defense, as a man interested only in a young girl's honor, chastity, and happiness."

"Yes," Mr. Magnesium said. Smiling. "After raising her shields so high, the girl will drop her defenses lower than she might otherwise. I _can_ count on you, can I not?"

"Por supuesto," Juan said suavely.

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**PHYSICAL EDUCATION**

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. No matter how carefully a project is planned, something may still go wrong with it.

How could the unexpected visitor to the Dance discussion know that Kaname Chidori was actually Sousuke Sagara? And how might that newcomer know how rabid Sousuke felt about protecting Kaname's body and reputation?

"Hello," Juan said amiably, after making his initial claim. "My name is Juan. I am one of the professional cameramen. But… as coincidence would have it… I am also a fan of dance. I am very adept at social dancing." He eyed the Principal, judging her level of suspicion. It was natural for a protective and professional woman to mistrust the motives of a young and forward man, especially one as spectacularly handsome as he. "In any other situation, I would serve very well as a respectful and clinical dance partner… but here… in this group… I could also serve as a source of knowledge." By denying his intent to dance, he might seem less of a concern.

"What do you think?" The Principal looked vigilant, willing to give the benefit of doubt, but doubly ready to pounce on the slightest suspicion or misstep. "It would do best to take a partner from our class, if we were going to train people one at a time. An experienced partner would help teach things quicker, especially seeing that only half of the period is available to introduce ballroom dancing. You students still have to do the day's running."

"I have no problem with it," Sousuke replied. He was adept at handling the boy's role, thanks to Commander Mardukas's strict teachings. He shuddered, thinking of those memories. But, he was not averse to letting a better teacher assume that role.

"I will be a gentle lead," Juan said, misinterpreting that shudder. He fought a smile, thinking the girl to be such an innocent thing.

"He's so hand_soooo-ooo-oo-ome_…" A handful of girls breathed.

"She's so lucky," other girls agreed.

"He's nothing special," envious guys claimed.

'I wish I were younger,' the Principal thought.

"He's cool," Shinji cooed. He wasn't gay. He had noticed a tattoo the man had, and correctly identified the special forces group it belonged to.

"That will be-"Sousuke was about to say 'fine'; however, something changed his trajectory. When the young visitor raised an arm to toss his ponytail over one shoulder, he exposed that tattoo once again: A grinning skull wearing a beret and set against an open parachute was pierced by a long knife, sitting atop a diagonally crossed sniper rifle and skies suspending frogmen flippers. This time the body marking bothered him. He was no longer in a daze, and that was just one tattoo too many amongst the camera crew.

Sometimes, in the tide of battle like the tide of seduction, it is best to let the fighting come to one. But, more often, it is best to grab the bull by the horns. Or, the bullfighter by the balls. "That will be unnecessary. For reasons I care not to explain, I am better trained in the lead role," Souuske claimed. That was true. But also, anything he could do to put the unfamiliar man off of his best game might prove useful. There is mental dancing, too. He walked over to Kyouko and whispered into her ear. He explained that it might just be paranoia, but it might be best not to use her real name, but to call her 'Ayame' instead, remembering something he had heard over Bonta-Kun's auditory sensors. He instructed the other girl to spread the message throughout the entire class, without drawing undue attention or causing signs of panic.

"I do not wish to argue with such a lovely young lady," Juan said, wondering what the whispering was about. "But… if we are here to teach, are we not also here to learn?" He liked that line. He had no doubt that his comforting smile would swing the matter. "Even after a short time, I will make certain that you will be much better at following."

"I see," Sousuke said, plotting his fuselage. "You are the type of man who has trouble taking a woman's part, even in show." He was not oblivious to the obvious irony. "You might fight my lead out of pride. An inexperienced dancer would prove more effective as my partner."

"No no no," Juan said quickly. "I am merely here to help." He fought a surge of anger. Anger was trouble in battle, and useless in seduction. "Let us begin." He and Sousuke took up the proper dancing position at the middle of the floor as the Principal started the music. The voice of Japanese crooner Kyu Sakamoto rang out. The English translation is:

_Look up while I walk  
So the tears won't fall  
Remembering those spring days  
But tonight I'm all alone  
I look up while I walk  
Counting the stars with teary eyes  
Remembering those summer days  
But tonight I'm all alone  
Happiness lies beyond the clouds  
Happiness lies above the sky  
I look up while I walk  
So the tears won't fall  
I cry while I walk  
For I am alone tonight  
Remembering those autumn days  
But tonight I'm all alone  
Sadness hides in the shadow of the stars  
Sadness hides in the shadow of the moon  
I look up while I walk  
So the tears won't fall  
My heart is filled with sorrow  
For tonight I am alone  
For tonight I am alone_

"I will share with my valued classmates the dance knowledge I have," Sousuke said. "In return, I hope that you will give your best, so that our dancing endeavor will turn out to be a success for each and every one of us."

"It would be a success if we forgot the whole thing," one boy said.

"Why?" A girl asked. "Scared? Don't want to touch a girl? Aren't you one of the big talkers in class?"

That kind of banter exploded, with the guys against dancing, and the girls cautiously optimistic.

"The waltz follows a slower tempo and uses 'the box step'," Sousuke said. "That is a series of movements that form the shape of a box. To dance the waltz, you will start by learning either the lead or the follow steps so you have the basic movements down. Boys, watch what I do. Follow what I do standing in your own space. This is a simple mis-" He bit off the word 'mission'. "This is a simple assignment." That word had him thinking. "Madame Principal… might I suggest… if you have today's efforts graded…."

"An _excellent_ idea, Miss Chidori." The Principal took a small booklet out of her pocket, and with a grand flourish clicked a pen, getting it ready for use. "The future dance will be a social event. But, today's efforts are part of class."

The grumbling amongst the students continued, for different reasons this time. However, postures were no longer lackadaisical, and eyes were all on the dancers.

"As I was saying, learn your roles separately," Sousuke said, quoting things that he had read in Kaname's copy of 'Dance' magazine. "Then you can pair them with a partner later. I will state this, for those who see no use in this endeavor. Ballroom dancing is a way to stay fit. It can improve joint health, increase muscle mass, and build self-confidence. The benefits of ballroom dancing extend beyond physical health. Social dancing leads to a continued engagement with life, contributing to dancers' longevity. Dancing also alleviates social isolation and helps to relieve the aches and pains associated with daily life. Any physical activity that involves coordinating brain and body can strengthen neurons and improve cognitive health." That had Sousuke feeling a knot in his stomach, for obvious reasons.

"That doesn't sound so bad," one boy said.

"Ayame is such a good instructor," a girl noted. "She sounds a bit different today; I want to see what she can teach me."

"For those of you who have been injured in sports, dancing can also help back and neck problems and will improve your posture." Sousuke was trying to remember some of the points that Commander Mardukas had whacked into his heads, like a croquet pole pounded in with a mallet. He mixed in things that he had read in the magazine. "Dancing can help form relationships… and can improve relationships that already exist. We co-operate, grow, and learn together… get frustrated together… share the glory together… and bond with our fellow dancers and teachers. Just like the better part of our schooling here." He paused, thinking back to homeroom. "But… there… is… no… entrance exam…."

"**Hell yeh!"** A number of boys and girls shouted at once. They had bonded more. They were feeling more positive.

"She's not just some silly girl," Juan said to himself. He would dial things up from where he first intended. And, since Kaname Chidori had been described as a leader, he felt as if his actions would prove successful. The sooner the success, the sooner he could leave this school and return to his ladies.

"And… remember this…" Sousuke released his hold on Juan and stood like a drill instructor, arms behind his back, and legs straight. "This is not just something to do and be done with. This is not something you keep to yourself, to you and your partner alone. The satisfaction that a couple gets when onlookers admire their skill and beauty is beyond description. And… hear me now! Dancing done well and from the heart can make people smile… lift depression… bring a sense of self-worth… and establish real and lasting self-confidence. Who here at this school could use some of that?!"

"I can!" "Me too!" "We all could!" "The whole damn school!" "Every damn school!"

"_Amazing,"_ the Principal said. "Such a wonderful girl." Ideas began to crystalize in her mind. She planned to make Kaname Chidori an ambassador of sorts. An ambassador of dance. As a forward-looking administrator, she hoped to improve the conditions at as many schools as she could. She would share this amazing resource.

"Are you all ready?" Sousuke stuck his chest out, blinking rapidly when he experienced that motion in Kaname's body.

"We are ready," most of the class called back.

"I… said…" Sousuke started. _"Are_… _you_… _ready!"_

"**WE ARE READY!"** That was one hundred percent participation.

"Ayame's so cool!" Kyouko said to anyone listening. To herself she said, "Too bad Sousuke isn't here to see this."

"She's not bad," a boy said, beginning to see the class rep in a different light. He wasn't the only boy feeing that way.

"**Wow!"** Maya said. "If Ayame was a boy, I could totally fall for her."

"If you are all ready then…." Sousuke held his arms out, signaling Juan to take his place. "Then, shall we dance?" He snapped a finger and pointed at the music player. Shinji almost tripped over his own feet rushing to re-queue the song.

"Magnifico," Juan found himself whispering. For a moment, he had indeed felt like the one being led, even before the dance began. This was no ordinary girl alright. He felt as if he were in the presence of a man. A man who had led men, and had been led by other men. Out loud he said **"Si!"**

"Take your partner in your arms in a classic dance stance with your right hand on her waist and your left hand in her right hand," Sousuke said as he did just that. "Her left hand should be on your right shoulder. This will feel pretty natural in time. As you dance the waltz, she will follow you doing the mirror image of what you are doing."

Juan would need to say the things he chose to say at a volume that the girl could hear, but no one else could. He started with the obvious question. "So, my young dance partner, may I ask your name?"

"Ayame," Sousuke said with no embellishment. If the man had been paying attention, he would have heard that name already.

"I see," Juan replied. The girl had said that with no hesitation. There was no change in posture or facial expression. "Such a lovely name. For such a lovely girl." There, simple enough.

"Boys!" Sousuke would follow tradition. Teach as he had been taught. That's how he remembered things the best. "Treat young ladies as human because that is what they are. They breathe and they have feelings. Your words and actions can cause lasting damage. Think before you speak and act."

The boys all looked at one another. Normally, they would be annoyed, make some wiseass comment, or immediately ignore anything else said. But, some actually nodded their heads. Pleasantly surprised, many of the girls gave 'Kaname' a thumbs up.

"Listen to the music for a couple of moments and get the 1-2-3 beat in your mind," Sousuke instructed. "Then, on a first beat, step forward one step with your left foot. Your partner will be stepping back one step with her right foot. Got it so far?"

"Yes!" "You bet!" "That's easy!" "We can do that!" "Good grades!" The boy who said the last was cuffed by the others.

"I wasn't…" Juan was taken aback. His comments had been tame, yet the forceful girl had unloaded on him in unexpected fashion. He would deal with it. He had to keep on edge himself. "Black hair looks so beautiful on oriental girls. But, I myself like other colors, too. Blue for example. Do you know anyone with blue hair?" Again, he saw no change in the girl, who did not miss a beat.

"Yes," Sousuke said, choosing to answer in a way he might imagine Ayame doing. But, he had to change things up a bit, to make things fit. "My twin sister."

"Sis-" Juan was the one who almost missed his step. "You have a sister. How marvelous. If she is as beautiful as you, I would certainly like to meet her." Kaname Chidori's file mentioned a sister named Ayame. But, no age was given.

"No slut-shaming. Girls have the right to wear whatever they like without fear of being sexually assaulted," Sousuke ordered. "What they are wearing or the fact that they enjoy sex is not an invitation for you to make unwanted sexual advances or speak about or to a girl in slut-shaming terms."

"Enjoy sex?" One boy swallowed hard. Then, his eyes opened wide. "Does that mean _she_ enjoys sex?"

"**Of course not!"** Shiori said. The other girls shouted the boy down for having a dirty mind.

Other boys eyed 'Kaname' differently. She seemed so mature, so different that the other chattering girls. Sexually active or not, she exuded a confidence that left them stunned. She had just provided the lot of them with something to talk about. Her.

"On the next beat, step forward and to the right with your right foot," Sousuke continued. "Your right foot should make a bit of an upside-down 'L' shape to get there. Again, your partner should move her left foot back and to the left so, at the end of the step, you are still facing each other."

The girl could indeed be Ayame, Juan accepted. But, she could well be Kaname Chidori with dyed hair, pretending to be her sister. He would ask another leading question. After that, he would switch gears drastically. If honey didn't do the trick, maybe vinegar would. He had tried suave and sexy. Crass and creepy might serve better, it seemed. He _would_ get the young woman to crack. "I will kill myself if I have said something to upset you, my flower." Watching the girl's eyes he said. "Have you ever tried to kill yourself?" The records said that the Chidori girl had attempted suicide while in America.

"No," Sousuke said. "But, my sister has. I do not think I should be talking about her, behind her back."

"I bet I know what people are saying behind _your_ back... 'Nice ass!'" Juan was grateful for the perfect lead in. He followed quickly with: "You must be Jelly, 'cause jam don't shake like that."

"When a girl says 'NO' to anything she means 'NO!'" Sousuke snapped out. That comment from Juan had caught him off guard, and he hated being caught off guard. "She does not mean 'maybe' or 'I'm not sure'. Girls can say 'NO' at any time during anything. This means you STOP immediately." That had not been directed at the Spaniard. But, his name was now on Sousuke's list.

"That's our class rep," Mayuko remarked. "You tell them!"

"Hey!" Ono-D replied. "We may talk big, but we'd never do anything like _that!"_ He didn't find it odd responding like that, discarding the usual 'boy's rule' kind of snarky talk.

"Whatever that might be," Shinji said, clueless. But, he felt like offering his support to 'Kaname' just the same.

"Shift your weight to your right foot without moving your left," Sousuke said. "It's just a gentle leaning movement," "Now, on the third beat, slide your left foot over to your right and you will be standing with your feet together. Again, your partner should be mirroring your steps. Now you will look like you did right at the beginning."

"No doubt you must want me dragged off and thrown into jail," Juan began. "Speaking of which… have you ever been kidnapped?"

"Negative," Sousuke said. "The entire class has been; but, I had not transferred to my sister's school yet. I am new here. My thing's haven't even been delivered from home."

Another fantastic lead in. "Do you work for UPS? I could have sworn I saw you checking out my package," Juan said with an abrupt pelvic thrust. "My real name is Haywood. Haywood Jablome." The girl's grip tightened ever so slightly. He had struck gold, had he not? This would not prove difficult, after all.

"Girls are equal to you in brain power. In fact, many will exceed you." Sousuke noticed his dance partner's eyes grow narrow briefly after he said that. Why? Did he take his words personally? Hmmm. Did he sense a killing intent? "This may be news to you, but they can also be physically stronger than you. They can also be better at sports." He also wondered at the man's transformation. He was no match for Mao; but, his behaviour was beyond coarse. There must be a purpose behind his actions.

Not all of the boys were enamored with the new Chidori. The boys from the sports teams took offense at the girl's suggestion, and were still smarting from their experiences in English class. Kaname Chidori was now added to _their_ list.

"**Girl power!"** That was Kyouko calling out, even though she was the least athletic girl in class.

"That's right!" Shiori slapped hands with Maya. "Kaname sure showed Sousuke that, alright. She bounced a base right off of his head!" She cringed. But, that name need not apply to anyone in the room.

"But… that homerun ball…." Tomomi said. She shook her head. Her memory must be messed up. But it still seemed like that ball had bounced off of something, to land square on the field that way. No time to think about that now. She had to pay attention.

"Now, on the fourth beat of six, step back one step with your right foot," Sousuke said. "You partner should be stepping forward with her left."

Juan decided to try one final leading question. "As a world traveler, I bet you have been many places. Jet planes. Trains. Cruise ships. Tell me. Have you ever been aboard a submarine?"

"No," Sousuke answered for Ayame.

"No?" Juan readied his next verbal assault. "I can take care of that. You see, I too am long, hard, and filled with semen." He chuckled, hoping the girl would understand his substitution of 'semen' for 'seamen'. What next? Of course! "Your face reminds me of a wrench… every time I think of it, my nuts tighten up." How about one more: "I lost my virginity. Can I have yours?"

"Many girls love to have fun and party," Sousuke told his classmates. "This does not mean you can come onto them when they are drunk or high. In fact, this is a good time to look out for them as you would any human in a similar situation." He knew how he wanted to treat Juan in this situation; but, he would remain committed to the dance instruction. It was his assigned task. He was a specialist!

Most in the class mumbled assent that time. None of them were into drinking or drugs. And, none of them had ever hung around drunk or high members of either gender.

"Very true," the Principal agreed. Again, she found herself impressed with the Chidori girl. She had always been an able class representative, and according to Atsunobu served well on the Student Council. But today, she managed teaching dance at the same time she provided terse and pithy social advice. If only she could get though to the absent Sousuke Sagara!

"On the fifth beat of the music, step back and to the left with your left foot-" Sousuke began. "-Then shift your weight to your left foot." He did exactly what he said, cringing slightly. He had barked out that order like he was an instructor at boot camp.

"Are you a drill sergeant?" Juan asked, thinking back to his own training days. "Because you have my privates standing at attention. Speaking of that, I would tell you a joke about my penis, but it's too long!" Again, the pelvic motion. "What's the difference between a Ferrari and an erection? I don't have a Ferrari."

"Girls are not here on this earth for your pleasure," Sousuke said with a bit of heat. "They are not sexual objects. It may be news to you, but they do not like cat-calling, gossiping with others about their bodies or appearance, or being stared at while going about their daily routines."

Trying their best to imitate the moves of the two dancers, the class members all called out in agreement. None of them noticed a shadow at the doorway. The person there was not visible. The Principal was too focused on the dance demonstration to have any concerns.

Juan was the exception. He noticed the shadow, and knew exactly who must be standing in waiting. He turned the dance orientation slightly, so the girl he danced with would see nothing outside of the meeting room. He was too late.

"On the sixth and final beat of this dance step, slide your right foot forward until your two feet are together," Sousuke said. "Again, you and your partner should be back together, feet together, facing one another just like right before you started."

"Do you wash your panties with Windex? Because I can really see myself in them." Juan tried not to chuckle. This was fun. Almost as fun as using his usual seductive pick-up lines on receptive women. "Want to play Pearl Harbor? I'll lay on the ground and you blow the hell out of me!" After the cultural reference, he would be the one to drop the bomb! "My dick just died. Would you mind if I buried it in your ass?"

"Pornography is not real," Sousuke said. "It is not what a loving respectful relationship looks like. What you may have seen are two or more actors. Even though the woman appears to enjoy sex that objectifies and degrades her, in real-life this most likely is not the case. A loving relationship is where two people enjoy time together and both enjoy sex that is mutually respectful."

A number of boys blushed. Some had porno mags hidden under their futons or stashed away in other secret locations. Girls who enjoyed salty manga shuffled their feet and looked away from 'Kaname.'

Students who wrote fan fiction about rape and other unnatural romantic trysts looked as if their souls had been stripped bare.

"Now, you start again just like the second step with stepping one step forward with your left foot, only turn both you and your partner about 1/4 turn to the left," Sousuke said. "Then repeat the pattern again." He felt himself blushing, thinking back to the time Kurz had plastered his cabin walls aboard DaDanaan with the choicest centerfolds, including some that he had photo-shopped with the faces of Kaname, Tessa, and Mao.

'Blushing, are we?' Juan thought. Time to steer this ship towards port! "My blushing beauty, first, I'd like to kiss you passionately on the lips… then, I'll move up to your belly button. That shirt's very becoming on you. If I were on you, I'd be coming too. Hey, you know, it's not going to suck itself." Hey, he wasn't above stereotypes, so he would put the engines on full by saying: "I'm not Asian… but I'll still eat your cat."

"Cat?" Sousuke said to himself, not getting the sexual reference. In a stern voice he said "Do not take pictures of girls without their permission. Do not post such pictures on the internet. I repeat, DO NOT do this despicable and illegal act." He then continued with his directions. "If it feels like you just made a box with your feet, you've got it. Whem you have time, practice over and over again with the music until you are comfortable with this basic waltz step,"

'Time for one more thrust of the epee, Juan thought, knowing that the verbal fencing match was coming to an end. "Do you work at Subway my pet? Because you just gave me a foot-long. Miss, if you've lost your virginity, can I have the box it came in? I want to melt in your mouth, not in your hand." Pressure, disengage-hit, feint to an opening, disengage-hit! "You remind me of my little toe... because I'm going to bang you on every piece of furniture in my home." With that, it was time for the coup de grace. He slapped the girl hard on the rump.

Big mistake.

Sousuke did not like being touched on his ass by a man. He especially did not want some cretin slapping Kaname's ass. And, a man doing that… and having a tattoo of that type… brought about an instinctual response.

WHAPPPP-PPP-PP-P! Sousuke slapped Juan hard across the face, stunning him.

_WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!_ Juan's face in his hands, Sousuke drove Muay Thai knee shots to his adversary's chin time and time again.

**ZOOP!** The edge of his hand like a knife blade, Sousuke backhanded a chop to the reeling man's larynx.

"Up we go!" Sousuke used a move that Kaname had used against him. Kaname's signature suplex. _**SLAM!**_ He drove the man's head into the floor, almost snapping his neck.

"Now…." Sousuke raised his foot, ready to supply the requisite groin stomping.

"Miss Chidori!" The Principal called out. "I think he's unconscious." She was conflicted. After seeing that way the man slapped her student on the buttock, she wouldn't mind seeing as much retribution as possible.

"-" The class was silent at first, before bursting out with cheers and calls of encouragement. Normally the boys in the group would be shocked, calling Kaname Chidori a monster or an idol gone crazy. Today, however, she had become an object of their admiration. That last move was the cherry on top, so to speak. As a bonus, they had been the benefactors of yet another pantie shot. But, that didn't seem as exciting in real life as it did in fan service animes.

"My goodness!" A new voiced cried out as the din settled. "Let me help you up!" The man had moved quickly to enter the room, and then 'help' pull 'Kaname' to her feet. Mr. Magnesium made certain to keep contact with the girl, wanting to confirm or refute her status as one of his fellow Whispered. "I apologize. That man will never work for our photo service again!"

"You can save you fake efforts at sincerity," Sousuke spat out. The straw had broken the camels back. Photographers with military tattoos. Leading questions by a 'convenient' dance partner. A quick rescue, also so very coincidental. Perhaps these men were after Kaname. No. It might be more than that. They could be here to attack the school as a whole.

"_Fake?"_ Mr. Magnesium was not one to gather wool. He immediately changed his approach. If he couldn't play Bad Cop-Good Cop, then Bad Cop-Worse Cop would still serve him well. The more upset the already enraged girl might feel, the better his chance at resonance would be. "Who are _you _to say anything about being fake." He eyed the girl's chest. "How much did the boob job cost you. You have breasts like Bombay mangoes. You must be one of those _Enjo-kōsai_ girls." That is the Japanese language term for the practice of older men giving money and luxury gifts to attractive young or adolescent women for their companionship, or for sexual favors. The female participants range from school girls to housewives.

"They're real!" Sousuke retorted, much the same way that Kaname had when Masatami Hyuuga had touched her breast and asked if they were real. He refrained from unleashing a Megaton Punch in retaliation as Kaname had. "But _you _are not. Dancing around the truth that way! You missed the runway." He had stumbled upon a touch-point incidentally.

"Dancing?" Mr. Magnesium seemed to swell in size, his initial intentions forgotten. _"Runway?"_ He didn't realize that Sousuke had meant an aircraft runway, not the type used at fashion shows. _**"Not real."**_ He struck a stance that would have been perfect for the 'Zoolander' movie. "You may have been clever enough to notice that I am a male model… but you were foolish to question my talent!" There was no resonance. This girl could not be Whispered. But, he was off mission now.

"Talent?" Sousuke laughed, on the attack. He was not usually one for verbal sparring; but, he would take a cue from Kaname. That, and make use of material he had read in Kaname's copy of 'Elle' magazine. "Model? _Hmmm-mm-mpf!"_ Good, he got Kaname's sound just right. "You look soft. It's a hard life being a male model. It's not easy to avoid the unimaginably awful fate of being just another pretty face. Today's most influential male models aren't so much seen and not heard, they're seen, heard and then some. Rather than simply wearing the latest fashion trends, they are setting them and even designing them, making canny sidesteps into business ventures and turning their god-given cheekbones into social media clout and real world capital. They are men with plenty of brains to match their brawn."

"You-" Mr. Magnesium's eyes flashed with fury.

"Most male models are the end product of smoke and mirrors: they look good when stage-managed within an inch of their life, but have little affinity for the professional world they inhabit," Sousuke said. "That's not the case with Portugal-raised model Armando Cabral who can back up being generally elegant and expensive-looking with being the designer of an eponymous shoe brand that is every bit as tasteful in appearance as the man a world where being a name and a face is enough to get cash-registers ringing furiously, the fact that Cabral's fancy footwear shows a genuine understanding of design is music to our ears, and feet." Sousuke readied his barb. "You sir, are no Armando Cabral."

"You-" Mr. Magnesium seethed, fury morphing into hatred.

"Once upon a time young men rocked up to modelling agencies with a few amateur snaps and an overzealous mother," Sousuke said, remembering what he read to the word. "But if Cameron Dallas is anything to go by, things have changed. YouTube was the launch pad for that American online personality, whose modelling career is a side-gig for his full-time occupation of documenting his waking life to a frankly staggering audience. He has twenty million Instagram followers. And, when Dallas isn't making millions by goofing around, he's modelling for the likes of Dolce & Gabbana. You sir, cannot hold a candle to Cameron Dallas."

"You-" Mr. Magnesium was being pushed to his emotional limit. This was his one and only weakness, and that insipid girl had happened upon it. No soldier had ever made him skip the slightest beat! He unconsciously began taking modelling stances and making modelling moves.

"David Gandy is about the only person on the planet who could make Michelangelo's namesake statue look a bit rough around the edges in comparison," Sousuke said, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Juan was showing signs of life. Good. He didn't like taking lives when it wasn't necessary. "And it's thanks to a mixture of weight room dedication, a generous dose of genetic gold dust and genuine fashion credentials. A pro at mixing high-fashion campaigns with accessible high-street product lines, his work combines D&G and M&S. When he's not making eyeballs pop out of their sockets in his underwear, Gandy's busy directing his own short films, investing in small brands and throwing his megawattage behind charitable causes. Oh, and showing men that traditional British tailoring has plenty of life in it yet, of course. And I should add that rags to riches stories don't come more digital than the tale of Pietro Boselli, a humble maths teacher who went viral thanks to a student who stealthily put his image online. Boselli will be forever indebted to that sneaky student, as modelling contracts, ad campaigns and online followers have snowballed ever since. Though Boselli's been MIA from the staff room for quite some time, teaching is still a talent. After all, who else will step up to the challenge of showing the world's male population how to be hench without dressing like a _Love Island_ reject? I ask you classmates… do you think this intruder can compete with the likes of David Gandy or Pietro Boselli?"

The class all answered emphatically in the negative.

"You… you… you-" Mr. Magnesium was red in the face. He let go of 'Kaname' and clenched both fists. He performed a quick series of moves.

"Are you trying to do The Walk?" Sousuke asked. Recognizing something else he had read in a magazine. "When it comes to classic modeling poses for beginners, getting your walk right is one thing you absolutely must nail. Every good heist movie features a badass slow-motion walk—and _that's_ the energy you want to channel for this high-fashion model pose. When you do your walk, you can either stare at the camera straight-on or look away, like you were caught unaware. A common facial expression is narrowed eyes, looking past the camera."

"Really, Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking," Maya said, referencing 'Zoolander.' "I wonder if he's an Ambi-turner."

"He can't help that he was born with this perfect bone structure, that his hair looks better done up with gel and mousse than hidden under a stupid hat with a light on it," Ono-D added. He was a 'Zoolander' fan, too. "All he ever wanted to do was make his father proud of him."

"_Now_ what are you butchering?" Sousuke would give it his all, as usual. "The Outdoor Pose?" He gave the foreigner a withering look. "Shouldn't you be trying to position yourself so the light catches on your best facial features. Keeping those contour lines visible makes up for the shadow on the rest of the face. You should also have an arm out to catch any extra light and add definition to the muscles. I suggest that you lie on the ground, facing up, and make sure your chin is extended to capture all the light."

Mr. Magnesium was growling.

"With what?! Your male modeling?!" That was Shinji, surprising the hell out of his classmates, and making an enemy out of the growling man. "Prancing around in your underwear with your wiener hanging out for everyone to see?! You're dead to me boy. You're more dead to me than your dead mother. I just thank the Lord she didn't live to see her son as a mermaid."

"Merman. Mer-_mannn-nn-n!"_ Another boy added, coughing effeminately in exaggerated fashion.

"Wait! No!" Sousuke continued. "Could that be? Is that the best you can with the Action Pose?" He watched the other man fight to keep his composure. He kept automatically assuming poses, despite obvious efforts to suppress his natural urges. "Even I know that you should fully extend your limbs or bend them near a ninety-degree angle to create a powerful pose. Softer, looser bends will give the pose a more approachable feeling. Don't be afraid to defy gravity. The most common form of this is a jump pose or an elevated arm or leg. Even something as simple as adding a leg up behind you while leaning on a wall adds visual interest. You can manage at least that much, can't you?"

"Well I guess it all started the first time I went through the second grade," Mayuko said with another quote. "I caught my reflection in a spoon while I was eating my cereal, and I remember thinking 'wow, you're ridiculously good looking, maybe you could do that for a career'."

"One look… _onnn-nn-ne_ look… I don't _**think**_ so…." Ono-D posed and made a face like the one Ben Stiller did.

"_There it is!"_ Shinji said.

"_**MAGNUM!"**_ A large number of the class said that simultaneously.

"Holy Moley," the Principal said. She wondered if she was more embarrassed speaking up like that, or admitting that she was a 'Zoolander' fan.

Mr. Magnesium felt as if every molecule in his body was shouting in outrage. "I would not say such things if I were you." The way he said that had Sousuke thinking of Humperdink in 'The Princess Bride.'

"Not only are you a terrible model," Sousuke said, deciding he would parse together a couple of Princess Buttercup's lines from the movie. "You are a coward with a heart full of fear. And when I say you're a coward, it is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the Earth."

"I… would… not… say… those… things… if I was _yoooo-ooo-oo-o-uuuu-uuu-uu-u_." Mr. Magnesium had started hyperventilating. People rarely spoke to him this way. An uncle with connections to both Amalgam and the fashion world had gained him opportunities that most young men could not dream of. Anyone foolish enough to cross him often lost employment or more.

"What's next?" Sousuke asked. "The Laid Back pose? The Gazing Pose? How about the Hidden Face Pose? No… I bet it will be the Dramatic Pose or the Sexy Pose? Or maybe this one-" He did some ridiculous movements. "Beat _that_ Freestyle Pose, mister!"

Mr. Magnesium looked like he was in pain, as if he were Wesley strapped to the Machine in the Pit of Despair, and Humperdink had just set the machine to the maximum setting of 50. He looked straight at 'Kaname' when he said "You will pay," in a strangled voice. "You will pay." He said that looking at the Principal. "You will all pay." He swept his gaze across the other students. "Let's go… idiot…" He grabbed a slowly rising Juan by the collar and pulled him from the room.

The irate and thoroughly embarrassed man said nothing to his wounded companion. His thoughts were for him and him alone. He saw red, literally. And red made him think of blood. He couldn't care what Mr. Silver might want. He didn't give a flying fuck about finding a blue-haired girl. When he had arrived at the school that morning, he had no intention of causing anyone harm. Now, about to assemble his crew and leave said building, he intended to do his worst. He would take over the pilot's chair in the Venom A.S. that had been drawing Mithril's attention elsewhere in the city. He would use that powerful machine to reduce the fucking building to rubble, with all of those fucking students inside it.

Back in the classroom, Sousuke was unaware that he had enacted another self-fulfilling prophecy, just as he had done on that fateful day in Art class. When Mr. Mizohoshi's incomprehensible rambling convinced him that his classmates wanted to capture him and possibly harm him, he did things that indeed made them want to capture him and harm him.

The Principal wrapped up that day's dance session, still breathless from the scene she had witnessed. Before sending the students to change for outdoor activities, she happened upon an idea she wanted to pursue. There would be a Queen of their 'Prom,' and everyone unanimously voted for Kaname. The Principal would let the class rep choose the King.

The boys stepped over themselves trying to win 'Kaname's' favor. Some had been won over by 'her' speech at the assembly. Others had just recently become converts. Each offered himself, except for Shinji. Some even asked to be 'her' date for the dance. A number asked 'her' out on a date before the big night. Sousuke, trying to think as Kaname would, turned everyone down. He wanted to delay selecting of the King, too. He doubted Kaname knew how to waltz, yet. He should not usurp her choice of a dance partner.

"Please," one boy said, in mock desperation. "_Please_ notice me. **Please** choose me. _**Please**_ date me." He hung his head and said. "If you don't, I'll kill myself."

Sousuke felt a jolt of electricity flow through him, hearing that. He had lost comrades, mercenaries who had faced the horrors of war and felt it necessary to take their own lives. And, he had a mistaken view of the suicide issue associated with Japanese high schools. Indeed, as the President had told them all earlier, worry about examinations is a continuing reality for most Japanese high school students and their families. But, dramatic media coverage notwithstanding, it was not true that large numbers of disappointed youth are driven to take their own lives because of their failure to pass the entrance examination to elite universities. And, while high school suicides did take place… more commonly related to maladjustment to school . . . lack of motivation… dislike of school…and trouble with homework… the death rate had been dropping dramatically, and had recently been surpassed by the rate seen in American schools.

"I accept," Sousuke said. There was a life in his hands.

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_Words were taken from 'The 20 Most Influential Male Models On Earth' __by Luke Sampson and__ '__The 10 Model Poses Every Male Model Needs To Know' by the team at Format. Dirty come-on lines were taken from sites found on Google._

_If you haven't seen the 'Magnum' scene in Zoolander, it's available on YouTube._

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**PHYSICAL EDUCATION REDUX**

Sousuke was running, feeling odd again, seeing how Kaname's body jiggled as he sped onward.

The other students were rushing forward themselves, girls staying with girls, and guys staying with guys. That was the social norm, or course. And, it was because their requirements differed

In this school, as in many others, students were expected to be able to run long distance. Twelve kilometers for girls. Fifteen for boys. It wasn't just for personal health, or any type of Japanese aesthetic. It was in part a way to find strong candidates for ekiden.

_Ekiden_ are long-distance relay races. Originating in Japan, the competitions pit teams of runners against each other, with individual racers completing different section, or 'stations,' of the course in order. Instead of a baton, competitors at the end of each leg pass a sash called a _tasuki_ that identifies the current racer to the teammate who is running the next section of the race. Various amateur and professional events are held in Japan throughout the year, the most popular of which are broadcast on national television. For high schools, a great amount of honor was at stake.

There is no standard distance or number of sections for ekiden, although competitions generally have between five and ten legs ranging from five to twenty kilometers in length. Team size varies according to how many legs there are, and runners are selected for each leg according to its gradient, length, or terrain. The narrow tasuki links runners of a team together between stages, and in spirit across the entire race. Frequently emblazoned with the team name, the sash must be passed by hand, since throwing it results in disqualification. Ekiden are typically associated with road running, but there are also numerous cross-country events.

"**Gambaro!"** Shiori called out. 'Try your hardest!' As many of her countrymen, her national ethic had her staying with the pace until she was forced to drop back.

"**Gambaro!"** That shout echoed across the school grounds, as the students circled the open grounds, trying to focus on their running, not the telethon theatrics taking place in the central area. Mugging for the camera, many of the mascots struggled to run in a large circle, falling down in comical fashion… or puffing loudly, truly winded… for the sake of the global TV audience.

"**Gambaro!"** Sousuke called out. He was no stranger to running. He had done so in bootcamp, carrying heavy loads, including fellow soldiers during long distance rescue drills. He had also run long distances as a youth, with gunfire everywhere, bombs bursting above his head, even with hounds on his heels at times. None of that caused even a fraction of the discomfort he felt now.

There was a more perilous and frightful activity taking place as they ran: **Girl Talk.** Somewhat shaken, he did not realize that students and mascots were not the only ones running.

"So many crazy things have happened today," Maya said. "And it's only the third class!"

"I know," Shiori said. "Kaname's speech. Kaname's hair! Kaname's teaching! Kaname's smack-downs!"

"Kaname Kaname Kaname Ka-na-me," Mizuki said, angry about all of the attention that Pretty Perfect Kaname Chidori got. "There were also electrical shocks… shocking bowel movements… moving heroics…" With that she viewed Tsubaki's quick and utter failure through rose-colored glasses. "…Heroic vomitting… and enough movement to make me sick." Not a fan of exercise in general, she utterly despised dance and cross country. "That was even crazier than _her."_

"But you know what the craziest thing was?" Tomomi asked gleefully.

"Yes," Shiori replied. "Kaname Chidori accepted a date."

"In front of _everyone!" _Rumiko added.

"Oh Sousuke," Kyouko said, audible only to Sousuke. "I wonder how _he _will feel about that."

Sousuke did indeed feel conflicted. Conflicted, confused, and culpable. He had acted on Kaname's behalf, in a matter that _should have _been left entirely to Kaname. Also, he felt twinges again of something that could only be envy or jealousy. Why? What did he want? If there was something that he truly wished for, why hadn't he… a battle-tested and war-hardened soldier… have the sense to know what it was, and have the courage to ask for it? Again, it was not his assignment. It was not his duty to know so or to do so. Why was anything different today, compared to yesterday, or all of the days he had served in the ranks of Mithril?

"It's not just because it was Kaname," one girl added. "Although… being her… it was pretty shocking…." She kept a steady grueling pace with the others. "Romance is so rare in this school."

"It's so rare in the whole country," another girl concurred and corrected. "Almost _half_ of the population of single people under thirty don't want a romantic partner. They all think that relationships are bothersome. Does anyone wonder why the birthrate has dropped so precipitously?" She couldn't look down on her fellow countrymen. She was very much on the fence herself.

"People with low incomes are even less interested," a third girl remarked. "And… one third of women say they would only marry someone who makes _more_ than five million yen a year."

"It's not just money that matters," Shiori said. "If the government wants more babies, maybe it should do something about work hours. Most people in that age group work to midnight. There's no time to unwind and recharge. How can they expect people to meet anyone outside of work, much less anyone they might see as potential partners?"

"Don't forget gender inequality," Maya said. "That always puts a stress on relationships. When women have their first child, they don't return to work. All of the weight in a relationship falls on a man's shoulders. And as the sole breadwinner, men are forced to spend long hours after work with others in their business. We women do not like inequality in a relationship!"

"But the boys aren't much help!" Shiori said, waving her arm in the direction of the lumbering herd of the other gender. "They don't want to have anything to do with a woman who demands equal sharing of housework."

"That's why more Japanese women are marrying Western men," another girl reported. "Women are changing their view, but men have yet to change."

"Relationships are too complicated," Mari claimed. "And technology doesn't really help things. Not only do people get surrounded by it all day at work, it's too easy to use it to talk. Face-to-face contact is getting rarer and rarer. I don't think that things are so bad in other countries. _Right,_ Kaname?"

"Uhhh-hh-h…." Sousuke had always considered human nature complicated and somewhat confusing. Perhaps the most confounding thing of all was romance. He had trouble enough with simple comradery and companionship. Romance was far above his pay grade. Now, a confusing subject began seeming even more daunting. "Right."

"You can say that again," Mizuki said sourly. Her luck with men was legendary. One of the few girls to actually try, she kept getting burned for her efforts. "There's so much trouble because of _uchi-soto."_ That is a concept that outlines Japanese behavior in public. Public displays of affection are taboo. While Western ideas of honesty are seen as attractive to the Japanese on one hand, they are seen as problematic on the other. Japanese people are oblique about expressing their feelings. That leads to everyone trying hard to read each other's feelings. So, men in that country are very subtle and indirect when they approach women, if they approach women at all. The women hate to be kept guessing!

"And our parents… they expect us to keep the old ways going…." Daidai complained. "Before dating, there has to be _gokon_. Really? Group blind dates. Seriously?" Obviously, not a fan. "Groups of kids mingle and take stock of everyone. After a number of gokon, a handful of people pair off for coffee, movies, and other cliché activities, almost always in public."

"Feeling each other out, instead of feeling each other up." Shiori looked at Kaname's back as she ran. _"Right,_ Kaname."

"**Guh!"** Sousuke stumbled ever so lightly. "I… well… that is beyond my experience." He had indeed fantasized at times; but, other than movies and television shows, he had nothing to base his fantasies on. The other soldiers were all so much older or more experienced than him. He had no peers to speak with about the simplest of missions. No. Scratch that. The simplest of social encounters.

"Maybe you will, soon enough," Maya said, getting catcalls from the other girls. "But, I suspect you will have to suffer through _kokuhaku,_ first." That is the next step after gokon for those who are into one another. Kokuhaku is the confession of love often seen in anime. In Western culture, confessions come after couples have started dating. In Japan, they come before dating even begins. Guys are expected to say 'I love you,' although some will embrace a more cautious approach and say 'I like you.'

"Hey! She's Kaname Chidori!" One girl said. "She's class rep and VP. Who's to say _she_ won't be the one to say things first? Right girl?!"

"That-" Sousuke was feeling more uptight by the moment. Not just about his acceptance of a date for Kaname. But, because he found himself wondering what _he_ should do some day. Should he approach some girl? What would he do if some girl approached him? Other than blowing up a love letter. And, what if he erased the words 'some girl' and placed 'Kaname Chidori' in their stead. He windmilled his arms to keep his balance. He had missed a step, maybe two. "I don't know…."

"At least things pick up after kokuhaku," Maya said. "Meeting the parents. Private dates. And-"

"Physical intimacy!" That was Kyouko. Almost a dozen girls missed steps after hearing her say that. "It… well… that happens in my video games."

"Kissing and hand-holding, at least." Shiori noted. "Even though this country has never associated virginity with chastity and purity. The average age when anyone has their first sexual experience is twenty years old. So, most teenagers don't have sex!"

"But they _do_ know about it," one girl remarked. "Porn magazines are everywhere, targeting teens as well as adults. And I'm not talking gun porn… things that a nut-job like Sagara might get into."

"And this month's centerfold is an M6 Arm Slave," another girl said, having heard Sousuke and Shinji discuss military hardware ad nauseum. "It's provocative pose is sure to require a whole box of tissues, if you know what I mean."

"_Right!_ What would happen if he picked up _real _porn?" a third girl began. She tried to imitate Sousuke. "What are these pictures? What are those fleshy appendages, water jugs for long marches? And, what happened to their fleshy bayonets, were they cut off to reduce combat weight?"

"But soft, what breaks through yonder window?" Mari took a shot at modifying a Romeo and Juliet balcony scene. "If it is the east, then it is a bullet from Juliet's gun. Arise, fair gun, and kill the envious goons, who are already sick and pale from mustard gas."

All the girls laughed. Sousuke, never one to care one whit for what an enemy might say, somehow felt very small and insignificant, as if he were viewing his own life under a microscope. Snap out of it soldier. What place did love and intimacy have in the life of a killing machine? How would anything like that increase his chance of victory, and bring him and his teammates home safe from battle? But a small voice whispered deep inside that mind of his: 'might it give him a better reason to return from battle?'

"Don't listen to what the docudramas say," one girl said. "Or what they say in all of those censored magazines. Plenty of girls have sex these days. And while everyone says that the longer a couple waits to be intimate, the better the relationship will be after marriage, remember what we just heard. Fewer people are concerned about marriage. Less girls want to be held captive by so many social restraints."

"Yes," one aggressive girl said. "Screw Sagara," she continued, getting razzed for her poor choice of words. "We are on a mission now. _First,_ we need to get Kaname Chidori kissed!"

"_Then,_ we need to get her groped," another girl added. "Big time."

_"Finally,"_ another overly enthusiastic runner put in. "We… need… to… get… her… laid!" It seemed as if a number of girls wanted to chatter on about what they heard about sex, or their own personal experiences; but, Kyouko surprised everyone again when she forcefully changed the subject, wanting to expound on something she had said earlier.

"This is why I found something different," the pig-tailed girl said. "It's an antidote to loneliness. And, I have had no problem keeping it private, until now." She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. "Video games."

"Video games?" Maya asked, surprised. _"You?"_

"Hah! Video games!" Shiori laughed. _"Sousuke_ is like a video game. Is that the type of guy that anyone wants? Put in a quarter, and he attacks an Art Class. Put in another quarter, and he blows up a locker. Put in two quarters, and you face the final boss, a cannister of the Full Monty virus!" The other girls piled on.

"Well… it's really not a video game," Kyouko admitted. "I guess you should really call it an app. I downloaded it to my phone. And it's not really that unique a thing to do. Millions of women in Japan swap real life intimacy for a fantasy. I felt lonely. Japanese boys are shy and not good at flattering women. But girls… you know… we want to hear 'I love you'. And… well… I wouldn't be anyone's choice, even if the boys here were braver."

"That's only because they don't know you," Sousuke said, with a rare surge of sympathy. The commentary today made him feel a bit like a fish out of water. "You are kind, while so many of the girls act silly and intrusive. You will make someone a good squadm-… a good partner some day."

"Thank you, Kana-chan," Kyouko replied, feeling better. "My virtual boyfriends give me something a clueless school boy can't. Like the one in 'Metro PD: Close To You.' I play a female detective who discovers a life-changing romance while fighting crime. When I am tired at the end of the day, before going to sleep, I am always so relieved to hear his sweet and gentle words." Some of the other girls snickered.

"Ummm… well… I…." Tomomi spoke up, sounding a lot more timid than usual. "I use a dating simulation app, too. I mean…almost half of the millennial single girls are virgins… virgins who still want intimacy, even if it's just simulated intimacy."

"I know how you can simulate intimacy," one big talker said, making a crude gesture with one hand. But, her smile quickly faded. She craved intimacy, too. No boy had come close to making her want to have a serious relationship.

"I like 'Angelique', Tomomi continued. "I know it's old school. But I love pretending to be a blonde teenage girl, who is a candidate to be the next "Queen of the Universe'. I get to go on a quest to find my perfect suitor."

"I'll play _anything_ from Voltage," another girl admitted, seeing that she wasn't the only one there with the habit. "Right now, I'm playing "My Lover is The No.1 Host'."

"It doesn't matter what your type of male would be," Kyouko said. "You'll find a man that you'll really like in games. And… of course… that male is going to be perfect. The perfect boyfriend. Next I'm going to purchase "Samurai Love Ballad: Party'. It's from Voltage, too. It's in the war-torn Sengoku Era where I'll be a waitress protagonist who has to runaway to save her brother's life, and conveniently meets twelve potential samurai suitors along the way."

"I like strong and selfish men," one girl said. She preferred the games that were aimed at the home market.

"I like physically and mentally macho men," another girl admitted. She preferred games catering to Western markets.

"And Kaname would like apps where she can steal other girl's men," Mizuki said, slandering the friend she still held a grudge against. Multiple grudges.

"I wonder if they have apps for military freaks," Shiori said. "I could see Shinji playing." She imitated his voice. 'Oh… RK 92… I am so sorry… but my heart now belongs to M6…." The other girls all laughed. "Or Sousuke." She did his voice, too. "I love you. I adore you. I have to have you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Uhhh. Pardon me, miss. Can you move. I was speaking to that rocket launcher over there." The laughter grew louder.

"Oh… Kaname…." The aggressive girl struck again. "In some of those apps… when you pay extra, you get an extra layer of romance. Simulated sex scenes."

Sousuke had never realized that girls his age could be so ruthless and such a formidable adversary. He wanted to speak up and defend Kaname's honor, even if most of the girls were just joking around. But, all he could think was so little he knew about Kaname, and what she felt, and what she might want. He felt like a puppet, not a real boy. When people pulled his strings, he fought. They had forgotten to give him a string for romance. He had worked hard since coming to school, trying to tie a 'Friendship' string on… one that wouldn't break, or leave him hanging.

"Romance gaming is not the only harmless substitute," Maya said, feeling a bit hypocritical after questioning Kyouko. "There's anime, too."

"Anime plots are so insane, though." One girl complained. "And so many are slanted towards guys. Warriors. Wizards. Guys transported to a world full of pretty needy women."

"And soldiers. Don't forget fighting men and women. Like in 'Golden Kamui.' Another girl said. "Anime is insane. Like Sagara. Boom! Bam! Whack!" Then she looked back at 'Kaname. "Smack… _smack_… **smack**… _**smack**_…." She pantomimed halisen strikes.

"Don't be ridiculous," Shiori said. "No one would be silly enough to make an anime _that _unbelievable."

"'Love Hina'," Rumiko said. "You know… flying turtles…."

"People would believe flying turtles… or talking cats… before they would believe a boy in high school like Sousuke Sagara!" Shiori sounded like she would never be convinced otherwise. Most of the running girls concurred.

Sousuke ran silently, still. Really… what was there for him to say? Kaname would probably be laughing with them. But, sometimes when she made fun of him, he caught a quick glimpse of something towards the end: a look of sympathy in her eyes. A silent apology. Girls were much more difficult to understand than hydraulics or belt-feed ammo.

"You guys just watch the wrong anime,' Maya opined. "In many ways, anime _are _quite different from real-life in Japan: by the characters clothing and hair styles…by their mindset… by their life-style… and also by their love stories. Like rooftop confessions. Students in this country aren't even allowed on rooftops."

"And love letters," Shiori said. "In school-life and shōjo anime, you find characters expressing their feelings through love-letters. One characteristic plot would even be all about the love letter getting lost… stolen… given to the wrong person… etc. But in real life, love-letters are perceived as cheesy, and it would be most common to receive a love text, if anything at all."

Ena ran slower hearing that. She had put her heart into a love letter, only to have it blown up. 'I'm sorry,' She might have expected. Not a cloud of gunpowder and a rain of falling paper fragments.

"Characters yell love confessions," one girl said. "Nobody yells here. And, emotions. Anime character are usually more expressive than real-life Japanese people. Some have temper… others are exaggeratedly shy… and most of them express a lot of feelings in various way: stuttering, becoming really mad, crying, yelling… you know. It is usually quite easy to read an anime character's mood, especially if he or she is in love with another character. Most of us keep our mind and heart secret. It's much harder to read a boy's feelings here. Apps and anime are so much better."

"I wish I was in an anime," Sousuke said to himself. "I would be able to express my feelings. I would be able to have feelings in the first place. If I saved a girl, she would thank me and teach me how to fit into society."

"And Kaname," the boisterous girl said. "Don't forget about sex. In anime, guys are either totally clueless about sex… or totally obsessed with it. Anyone for nosebleeds?"

"I think I would like clueless," Maya said, seconded by Mayuko and most of the other girls.

After hearing all that he did, Sousuke thanked the stars that he wasn't really a Japanese girl. At least, not permanently. Or, so he hoped.

As the garrulous girls continued with their gossip and gambaros, they were cheerfully unaware of a threat that was swiftly approaching, the same way that playful sea lions might be unaware of a cruising orca, or a school of darting fishes might be unaware of a speeding shark.

"**HEY YOU GIRLS! EVERYBODY SLOW DOWN! EVERYBODY STOP. BY ORDER OF THE POLICE. IF YOU RUN, I WILL CHASE YOU. IF I CHASE YOU, I WILL CATCH YOU. IF I CATCH YOU-"**

The shouting was followed by maniacal shrieking and laughter. It was as if one crazed person could outdo an entire family of hyenas. The police woman had been told by one barely-lucid yanki that Kaname had had her hair dyed black.

"**BLUE HAIR GIRL, YOU CAN SAVE YOUR FRIENDS IF YOU GIVE YOURSELF UP. FRIENDS, IF SHE HAS ANY, YOU CAN SAVE YOURSELVES IF YOU GIVE HER UP. LAST CHANCE. I WON'T BE THIS GENEROUS AGAIN-"**

More shrieking and laughter.

For most people, a lopsided battle against a numerous and relentless foe would slow them down after victory. It would make them take time to lick their wounds or count their blessings at being alive. Yoko Wakana was definitely _not_ most people.

The police woman was wearing a Jindai running suit, her clothing underneath shredded, bloodied, and far past appropriate. Her torn and dirty hat still sat askance on her head. She ran with a large billy club, holding it like a baton. Behind here, head wrapped entirely in bandages except for eyeholes, Rebecca rode in a heavily scratched and bent wheel chair. Pushing the chair, busted chainsaw strapped to his back, Oonuki grunted with everything he had. He had been promised a new shiny chainsaw. Betty Lou was broken beyond repair, her chain jammed by either motorcycle metal or bancho bone. In all likelihood, it was both.

Hearing what they did, the girls did not stop. Quite the opposite. They took off on a dead sprint, as if the finish line was in site. It was. They were a quarter of a mile away from the school doors.

They were in luck. Even the most fearsome predator can be taken down by numbers. It was Waka and crew's turn to be tracked unaware. Two police minicars sped across the schoolyard. One passenger held a dart gun, with projectiles usually fired at rampaging rhinos. The passenger in the other car wore a shoulder belt of stun grenades, and carried a launcher that could throw a large and heavily-weighted kevlar net.

"You should have brought more cars!" Wakana called out in challenge when she caught wind of her fellow officers.. Two cars and live-capture weapons was child's play after dozens of motorcycle gang members using lethal force.

"WE DID!" That was the chief of police, using a megaphone, calling out from a safe distance. He was watching Wakana through binoculars.

A dozen more minicars roared onto the scene. More cute than clever, a number of mascots began pushing large prop cars carrying more mascots, joining the automotive conga line. The camera crew followed behind, cameras held on their shoulders.

"If you help," Wakana said back to the custodian. "I'll buy you a fucking chainsaw factory." She tossed him back a set of brass knuckles.

Finally, she could work up a little sweat.

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**PREP TIME**

"Yuck!" Mizuki said, pulling at her wet T-shirt.

"We worked up too much sweat," Shiori complained, squeezing sweat from her bloomers.

"Should we even _be _here?" Maya kept looking at the door.

"Why?" Mari asked. "Afraid some boys might try to sneak in? Afraid Sousuke might barge in again?" The last time that had happened, it had been in the girl's locker room, not the shower area. "Or that creepy Mardukas guy?"

"You know what she means!" Kyouko contemplated whether or not she could squeeze inside her tall locker and hide. "That woman. The police lady."

Sousuke found himself on the horns of a dilemma. One horn was a matter of sacrifice. Should he go outside and turn himself in, in case the overly obsessed officer used the school tractor to break down the door? The other horn was far more serious. He, a boy… at least a boy's brain… a boy's brain with nervous system hooked-up to two functional eyes…. was in a room of naked girls, undressed and waiting in line to use the showers.

"Can you believe we're almost the only school with showers," Shiori said, slowly parading in front of 'Kaname.' "I can't imagine going to class as sweaty as we were. _Grossss-sss-ss-s!"_

"Uhhh-" Sousuke walked with his eyes closed, heading for Kaname's locker. Feigning head injury again, he had gotten the combination from Kyouko. Too discombobulated to measure distance accurately, he banged his head hard.

"Are you alright, Kana-chan!" Kyouko rushed to help 'her.' She was completely nude, as Sousuke found when he opened Kaname's eyes. Nude and standing right next to him. Nude. With everything quite visible.

"She's probably distracted," Maya said, walking behind 'Kaname.' "Worried about her date." She chuckled, before launching into another trope more commonly seen in anime. "With these things, the boy won't stand a chance." She reached around her fiend's body and grabbed her breasts. "Damn. Have these gotten bigger, again?"

"Let me check! Let me check!" Mayuko joined in the fun, too. She and a handful of others girls were all rubbing up against Kaname's body, or pushing their breasts and hips against places that had Sousuke's mind going cross-eyed, so to speak. It was like a school of piranhas attacking a fresh carcass.

It was almost safer this way, Sousuke concluded. He could feel things, but he couldn't get a good view of things. No. wait. That was quite a good glance. That, too. Oh no! Another grope. Why did girls grope? He didn't go around grabbing balls and their trusty companion! Any other boy might think he were in heaven to be in his shoes. No his bare feet. Whatever! Just the same, Sousuke was male, and he was mesmerized once the girls got back in line. Big breasts. Little breasts. Round butts. Flat buts. Shaved… ummm… parts. Unshaved… well, you know… places.

The young operative had seen actual naked girls before, and pictures and movies of naked girls. But, today's opportunity was like the difference between seeing a lion in an encyclopedia or behind bars at the zoo, compared to running across a hungry male lion in the Serengeti... on foot… alone… and wearing a jacket made out of raw pork chops.

"Some day… when he is acting high and mighty again…" Sousuke whispered. "…I am going to tell Kurz about this." He swallowed hard, thinking of his friend's reply: 'Now… go tell Tessa….' He also said a quick prayer of thanks, even though he was not a religious man. How bad would it have been, if this whole episode had happened while the Captain was here? "I hope my brain cannot still communicate with my body."

That would not be a good thing. What would Kaname think if she suddenly had a stiffy?!

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**THE LAVATORY**

By strange coincidence, Kaname was in the Men's Room again. Standing at a urinal, she voided her bladder with ease, thinking that she was all alone.

"It's _huge!"_ She said out loud, looking down. Even flaccid, the body's uniquely male appendage was sizeable.

Sitting silently in a toilet, his feet held up off the floor, Dr. Necessiter smirked. He placed a cell phone back into his lab coat pocket.

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**PREP TIME**

Standing in the shower, Sousuke quickly cleansed Kaname's body in a huge mass of bubbles, looking like he was Donald Pleasence's character in 'Fantastic Voyage' being attacked by the enormous White Blood Cell

He also scrubbed his hair, pleased to see a great pool of black dye form, slowly making its way down the drain. He had been warned not to get the hair wet after the dye application. He felt no need to follow that order.

It was a day for lurking, or so it seemed. A toilet brush quickly plunged into the shower like a large knife, as a girl tried to mimic the sounds made in 'Pscycho.' What the 'attacker' didn't know, was that the banana that Mardukas's imagined Bonta-kun used against an imaginary Tessa was a much better prop.

It was Satomi Yamazaki, a girl who held larger grudges against Kaname than Mizuki did. And like the other girl's geievances, the grudges were all in her mind. Today had pushed her a bit over the edge. Dancing. And Kaname being named Queen. It was wrong. A conspiracy. Her own mother did ballroom dancing. Satomi could have taught the class. Satomi should be the Queen. Kaname Chidori should be the poor serving girl, only allowed to watch the ball! If not that, then she should be the shower victim. Of course she wouldn't hurt her nemesis. But, being attacked with a brush freshly dipped in an unflushed mess ought to put the blue-haired girl in her place.

Putting something in its place was an appropriate lead in. Sousuke's natural reflexes took over. Before the angry girl knew what hit her, her wrist was grabbed, she was flung through the air like a sack of dirty laundry, before she landed hard on the floor, belly down and ass up. Without thinking, Sousuke sheathed the brush like he was sheathing a bayonet. The sheath was Satomi's anus.

"_**OOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOO**_-_**oooooooooooo**_-**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o"**

The girl's wail of anguish went unnoticed. Moments before the brush slid home handle down, Shiori pointed at the wall. "I heard something. A buzzing noise."

Naked, Sousuke sprang into action, brush forgotten. Shiori was pointing at a modern looking soap dish held up by two large silver cylinders. As he began looking down one tube, he saw the reflection of light off of glass. Knocking one cylinder off with a fierce downward strike, he exposes a digital camera lens.

"**EEEEE-EEEE-EEE-EE-EK!"**

A collective scream rang throughout the small room, as the girls all ran for towels, bunching up together like sardines fighting to avoid the can.

"It's boys," Mizuki said, towel held in front of her. "It's _got _to be boys."

"Maybe it's men," Shiori said, pumping up everyone's adrenalin. "There are so many strangers around today!"

"Whoever it is," Maya said. "We _have_ to stop them! Whatever it takes!"

Whatever it takes!... Whatever it takes!... Whatever it takes!... Whatever it takes!

It was like a metronome, keeping pace. No. It was more like a countdown. The words bounced back and forth inside of Sousuke's brain, like a game of 'Pong' played with neurons and synapses. Sousuke was a sucker for exact words. When Kaname said 'No holds barred' when Sousuke was set to fight the karate club, she didn't realize that the soldier would interpret those words in his customary fashion, thinking it an order to use 'any means necessary'.

"Whatever it takes," Sousuke mouthed. Like the Terminator in the first movie, possible options were displayed in his mind. Destroy the technology. Destroy the technology and punish those responsible. Destroy the technology and eradicate the perpetrators. Destroy anything and everything that threatened the girls and anything and everything that stood in his way. Of note, there were no safety settings. With only time to swing a large towel around his naked body and a smaller one around his wet hair… and to grab an iconic item from Kaname's locker… Sousuke called out "I'll be back" as he shot out the door.

Bare feet beating a staccato beat on the linoleum floor, Sousuke made a beeline for the storage room that abutted the shower area. He didn't bother opening the door. Instead, he knocked it down with a soaring kick, catching one remaining perpetrator, and seeing the other door close, but not before he heard a lot of running feet and the tail end of victorious laughter.

"Please don't-" It wasn't clear whether Shinji was begging for his own life, or the life of the digital camera set-up that Sousuke grabbed and broke into pieces before using fragments of the wreckage to fill-in a peephole in another secret vantage point.

Dropping the pieces like sand from his hand, 'Kaname' glared at Shinji. 'Kaname' said "Who? Why? Talk!"

Staring at Kaname Chidori sporting a death mask had Shinji falling to his knees. He felt like a prisoner about to be placed on an Aztec altar. In a stammering voice, the frightened boy told a familiar tale. Photo equipment had been stolen and was being held ransom in exchange for this service. The ones who took his belongings were members of the soccer and baseball teams. He gave 'Kaname' the names.

"Think on your sins," Sousuke said before rushing towards the other door, which led to a small room housing a water system, which in turn had access to an area outside of the school. "There will come a reckoning." He would leave any punishment of Shinji up to the victims of this vile act. He could not bring himself to call down fire upon his friend. He was no longer thinking such homilies as 'be the ball' or 'don't drop the ball.' His unconscious motivations were more like 'crush the balls' and 'tear off the balls.'

At first, the happy-go-lucky athletes, glowing with the joy of their coup, hurried along only to escape witnesses or to avoid the inquisitive gaze of any adults. Once outside, they jogged slowly, if only for the purpose of letting their leg muscles gradually equilibrate. When someone happened to turn around and look in the direction from whence they came, he saw a totally unexpected sight: a girl clad only in two towels was speeding in their direction.

"Maybe she feels left out," one boy said. "We should stop and give her a good look, too."

"_You_ can," another boy said. ** "Not me!" **Instead of slowing down, he started running as hard as his screaming legs let him. He was not alone. Normally, those arrogant and self-centered louts would feel little fear when confronted by any of their classmates… especially girls. But, there was one exception. No one ever wanted to face the flaming fury of Kaname Chidori when she was on the warpath. No one in the entire school had any idea how Sousuke Sagara could still be alive to this very day.

To onlookers on the sidewalk… in the parking lot… or driving by in cars, vans, and busses… things seemed to move in slow motion. A line of boys dressed in school uniforms ran frantically, knocking one another aside, and occasionally throwing one of their members to the ground as a sacrifice of sorts. Charging after them came a girl wearing barely anything at all, carrying a large collapsed paper fan. To the stunned crowd, it seemed as if the screaming boys were little more than tall weeds or wispy underbrush. The girl seemed a lot like a well-seasoned landscaper, manning his trusty powerscythe.

_Tessenjutsu_ is the martial art of the tessen… the Japanese war fan. It is based on the use of a solid iron fan or the folding iron fan, which usually had eight or ten wood or iron ribs. Practitioners of the art of could acquire a high level of skill. Some became so skilled, in fact, that they were able to defend themselves against an attacker wielding a sword, and even kill an opponent with a single blow. Like so many other Japanese arts of combat during the sixteenth century, tessenjutsu reached a high level of sophistication. Sasaki Kojirō, a warrior of the time, was able to defeat several enemies with an iron fan. Apart from using it in duels against enemies armed with swords and spears, the skilled wielder could also use it to fence and fend off knives and poisoned darts thrown at him. Like a sword, the tessen could be dual-wielded to parry with one hand and attack with the other. If any remaining experts in Japan witnessed Sousuke's actions with the halisen that day, they would lavish 'him' with praise.

Bodies flew, landing in heaps. Some landed in garbage cans. One was stuck on a school light, one story up. Once bounced in front of a taxi, causing it to screech to a halt. "Taxi!" Souuske shouted, thinking back to the day when he whad been the one thrown in front of a cab. One boy bounced off of a large woman, who proceeded to pepper him with her purse, before plastering him with pepper spray

Sousuke's actions were too quick to be seen by the human eyes. But, they did not escape the rapid snapshots of cell phone cameras. Countless smart phone flashes were going off in quick succession, reminding the battling soldier of gun-flashes surrounding an assault team that was encircled by enemy forces, as if he needed another mental bayonet prodding the rampant reptile brain.

"Who _is _that girl?" People asked one another.

"I don't know," one man said. "But I _do_ know one thing. She'll be a social media darling!"

Fan strikes continued until every boy was down and out. Standing on top of a small pile of victims, Sousuke grew angry when one boy's eyes went wide, looking up. Realizing he wasn't wearing any panties, he knocked the Peeping Tom unconscious. That boy had been an innocent, the victim of circumstances. The next participant was nothing of the kind.

"_Weeee-eee-ee-e-_ohhhh-hhh-hh-h!" A deep male voice said. "Such a sight for sore eyes." He let out a long wolf whistle, his appearance setting off a new salvo of phone flashes. "I'll give you one thousand yen if you drop the towels. I'll give you a thousand more after that, if you kiss my kintama." That word literally meant golden eggs, and was a Japanese word for testicles.

The politically incorrect speaker leaned against an open school door, smoke coming out through openings in his huge and unsightly costume. The occupant was actually smoking cigarettes or cigars inside of his official mascot outfit.

It was Mr. Balls.

The Brazilian mascot had not rejoined the others after the Gloomy Bear and Bonta-kun melee. As far as he was concerned, as long as he was on school grounds, and as long as he wore the suit, he deserved getting his pay.

"You… will… not… demean… girls…." Sousuke shouted, fan a blur once more. "You will do nothing to Kaname Chidori!" He charged. Again and again he struck, but the fan just bounced off of the thick rubber costume. His jiggling breasts threatening to pop out from the towel with every strike, he then attempted a powerful flying kick, only to be sent skyward in the rebound.

"Somebody had a little too much fucking caffeine this morning," Mr. Balls said. Seemingly invulnerable on the outside, he still suffered from the sounds echoing inside his rubbery sanctuary, and the cigarette had been knocked from his lips. Had he read the tag on the costume, he would know that its innards were very much flammable. "Or is on drugs!" He stepped back into school, just as the suit lining burst into flames. Soon, a great deal more smoke began pouring out of every orifice.

Sousuke followed the man inside, thinking his cries of help were shouts of battle. Seeing a glass-fronted door in the wall, he opened it. There were two choices. The first he considered was a fireman's axe. He vetoed that idea, fearing that the axe would bounce back upon him. He grabbed the second choice, which would prove good fortune to the screaming mascot. He shoved the nozzle of a fire hose into a small opening in the back of Mr. Balls and turned the water on full.

Mr. Balls began expanding rapidly. The suit changed from its hairy testicular shape into a great ovoid figure. It grew larger and larger yet. Onlooking students students in the hallway gasped in awe, as the greatly expanded costume was touching the walls, floor, and ceiling. Too few had the good sense to run. Not one witness… Sousuke included… thought about rescuing the trapped man from drowning. But, all good spectacles must come from the end. Flashes from phones illuminated the scene, as strangers from the street poured into school, feeling compelled to watch the events, trespassing be damned.

If anyone who had watched 'Big Trouble in Little China' had been standing there, they would feel a strong sense of déjà vu, remembering the fate of Thunder. That member of The Three Storms had grown so upset at the death of Lo Pan, that he had expanded to great size and exploded.

_**BW-AAAA-AAA-AA-A-MMMM-MMM-MM-M**_

The Mr. Balls costume exploded after being stretched too thin. Great tidal waves of water rushed down the hallways in every direction, bowling over students and the occasional teacher, spilling into classrooms with open doors and seeping into closets and hall cabinets. A soggy cigarette rode one of the waves like a skilled surfer at Praia do Norte.

Powering down, Sousuke sloshed through the water, heading back to the Shower Room.

"_Hurry,_ Kana-chan." It was Kyouko, who had dressed back into her school clothing. "You don't want to be late to Japanese History class. Remember, there's a pop quiz today!"

Sousuke felts Kaname's bowel clench. He had actually forgotten that fact, as wound up as he had been. He had little time. There were things he needed to retrieve. Running through the water almost like he was a hydrofoil, he parted the sloshing liquid as he sped to his first destination. Fully clothed, he headed back in the other direction, parting the waters again.

He passed by the mascot operator in a blur, not noticing the fountain of water coming out of his mouth as a number of students pressed hard on his chest and abdomen.

"**There!"** Sousuke opened and closed the door to the Mathematics class, his second destination. After grabbing something, he headed further down the hall, feet raising large splashes as they pistoned through the water. Sliding to a near stop to make a right angle turn, he kicked up a large wave of water, drenching the Vice Principal. Next to the stricken man, Atsunobu Hiayashimizu held his opened umbrella, smile as sedate as usual.

"Done," Sousuke said breathlessly, after picking up something in the third destination, his main school locker. "I hope my plan works!" His plan was a longshot.

But, he had faced bad odds many times before.

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_It is great, the way that Sousuke has managed to keep things low key as Kaname Chidori._


	12. Chapter 12

**CLASSICAL JAPANESE HISTORY**

As Sousuke walked into the classroom for Japanese History, he was surprised.

The girls in the room turned to face 'her' and began clapping their hands. Kyouko snapped off a number of pics. The boys looked at her, their looks inscrutable. Some looks might be admiration… some fear… and some maybe even resentment.

"Welcome to Japanese History, your majesty," Maya said, with a lopsided grin.

"You _are _the Queen, after all." Shiori curtseyed. "Queen of the Ball." She had a wicked look in her eye. "And the Queen of Balls." That sly remark went two ways. She had kicked the shit out of a bunch of pervy classmates who were possessed of balls. And, she had taken out an even pervier mascot, who had been dressed like a giant pair of balls.

One of the boys who had still been able to walk after the Fan Dance had fearfully entered school and blabbed about the emotional encounter. His comrades were awaiting the school nurse or a paramedic team, depending on how much damage Sousuke had done. He had been too enraged to pull any punches, even in a distaff body.

"No," Mayuko said. "The Queen of Spades!"

"She's got a tattoo?" one boy said. "And when she has sex… it's only with black men…?" It was odd that the boy knew that appellation. Among young, mostly white females, there is a growing subculture known as Queen of Spades. It typically involves women getting a permanent or temporary tattoo on their bodies of a queen of spades symbol with the letter Q on it. It is usually kept hidden but when exposed it basically means that those women are looking for sex exclusively with black men at that moment.

"_What?"_ One girl stood over the boy's chair and gave him a dirty look. "Why is everything about sex with boys? Hmmm. Maybe you want to dance with the Queen, too." The way she said 'dance,' everyone knew that she was referring to the recent beat-down, not ballroom dancing. "She's already done a great job of culling the herd."

"**Idiot!"** Mayuko said to the boy. "The _card!_ Not suit on a playing card. Queen of Spades people are the epitome of power and authority, embodying the innate ability to achieve. As a born leader, Kaname senses the need to rise to the top, and will experience deep fulfillment when she answers her call to greatness. Intelligent, well-spoken and independent, Queen of Spades people are naturals in positions of public speaking, education and writing."

"And kicking ass," Maya quipped. "On Peeping Toms, and pop quizzes." The other girls shushed her. It was a pop quiz. That meant it is supposed to be a surprise… which meant that no one should have the slightest inkling that it was coming.

"She probably won't do too well, if she's the Queen of Spades," Mizuki said, with a hopeful chuckle. "In card reading…." She had read a cheap book on cartomancy. "…The Queen of Spades evokes a treacherous woman who will try to harm you. On the emotional level, she could be attracted to the person you love. On the professional level, she could be your superior or your colleague, trying to get your position. In any case, you should be careful and put things into perspective. The Queen of Spades likes to tell lies and observe their consequences. She likes to put herself in the middle of situations that do not implicate her but, she always tries to bring attention to her. And in the game of Hearts, the Queen of Spades is usually considered the unlucky card."

"Hmmm," Tomomi rubbed her chin. "Sounds like someone is a Three of Clubs." She looked at Mizuki. "When their mental energy is unbridled, the Three of Clubs person can become distracted by fears and end up being ineffective. I guess that means with boys, too."

As the girls began taking their seats, Sousuke hurried to the back of the room while there were still a large number of standing students who would hide his activities. Taking a pilfered key out of his pocket, he unlooked two large windows. He opened them both, and pulled down the blinds to hide that fact.

Sitting down in his chair, Sousuke thought about cards. Mithril used to put the picture of wanted mercenaries and world leaders on playing cards, much the way that the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency did, to help troops identify the most-wanted members of President Saddam Hussein's government, mostly high-ranking members of the Iraqi Regional Branch of the Arab Socialist Ba'ath Party or members of the Revolutionary Command Council. Sousuke had once told a crew chief to throw away a Guaron card, thinking the evil man to be dead by his hand years earlier.

Also, soon after he had begun piloting Arm Slaves, he would put an Ace of Spades on the side of his helmet, point up. The soldiers of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the American 101st Airborne Division were marked with the spades symbol painted on the sides of their helmet in the second World War. In that capacity, it was used to represent good luck, due to its fortunate connotations in card playing.

He felt a chill, thinking back to something else he had done with that same card out of habit, before some fellow soldiers helped him leave a very dark place inside him. American Soldiers during the Vietnam War believed that the Vietnamese held the symbolism of the spade to mean death and ill-fortune. So, in a bid to frighten and demoralize Viet Cong soldiers, it was common practice to mockingly leave an ace of spades on the bodies of killed Vietnamese, and even to litter the forested grounds and fields with the card. That custom was said to be so effective that the United States Playing Card Company was asked by Charlie Company, 2nd Battalion, 35th Infantry Regiment to supply crates of that single card in bulk. Sousuke had adopted a similar practice after first joining Mithril. He would toss a pack of Aces on the remains of any vehicle that he destroyed. Mao thought it cute. Lt. Commander Kalinin told him a true warrior wouldn't act that way. Kurz used the cards as targets, when Sousuke threw them away.

Running a hand through Kaname's hair, Sousuke thought about both cards and Arm Slaves again. During missions… when they were in long queue for launch, or waiting on station… Al would use the control screens for his own purposes. He was attempting to learn card games to play with his pilot. He had been very successful, learning every known game and creating a few of his own design. However, he had never been able to convince Sousuke to play. "Perhaps I should give it a try." The more time he spent as Kaname Chidori, the more that he saw just how closed off his own world was.

"Everybody please be seated," a tree-trunk of a man said. It was Mr. Watsugi, an ex-soldier and Japanese History teacher. "I hope you will keep your excitement in check, when I tell you that we have a pop quiz today." He took a stack of papers out of his briefcase and put the bag on his deck. He carried the test booklets from student to student. "You have the entire class period, if you need that much time. If you do not, please stay silent in your seat, until everyone has finished."

When a booklet was placed in front of him, Sousuke coughed, covering his mouth with one hand. The other hand made a quick movement over his test papers. No one could possibly have seen the small glass phial and its bamboo stopper.

"I see that a number of people are absent," the stocky teacher remarked. He was told that a number had suffered 'accidents.' "And… Mr. Sagara… will he be making it…?" When he was told that the boy had been hospitalized, he remarked "Then… his core on this test will be higher than usual…." Yes. A zero would be higher than Sousuke's customary minus-numbers.

No one snickered. Sousuke's issue with Classical Japanese History was well known. A sense of responsibility… of guilt before anything even happened… had him hesitating. He looked around the room, watching as other students used pencils to open the quiz booklets. He looked at the walls, seeing maps of different eras of Japan, along with large black-and-white pictures of Japanese historians, including Kanjun Higashionna and Amino Yoshihiko. He stared at the class clock for a moment, letting his breathing and heartbeat synchronize with the minute hand. He closed his eyes, and did a mental walk-through, just like he did before every catapult launch from DaDanaan.

He opened his eyes, and then the booklet. There were a large number of questions inside. He felt his innards quiver, reading the first few. This was no different than any previous Japanese History test. He knew enough to recognize many of the people and places, but he didn't know much more than that. If his plan failed, so would he. But, this time, it would actually be Kaname Chidori who failed. He doubted that Mithril would pay to clean up his mess under these circumstances, or if the school board would stoop to collusion when it came to an _actual _student. He read the first question more slowly this time:

_**A.**__**According to legend, which Shinto Sun Goddess was the Great-Grandmother of Emperor Jimmu, the mythical founder of Japan and the Japanese Imperial family.**_

['I don't know,' Sousuke thought. 'No sense in really trying.' The thought of Arm Slaves was still fresh in mind. He knew what history he was going to write about. After he unconsciously sketched a symbolic spade, he began.]

The term 'Arm Slave' is the shortened form of 'Armored Mobile Master-Slave System'. The Arm Slave is a development of the Reagan Administration Strategic Defense Initiative's research into powered exoskeleton suits to increase the ground soldier's combat capability. Called the XM3, the first powered suit was nothing more than a powered exoskeleton sized around two meters tall. This proved to be of low combat effectiveness as it offered little advantage in protection in exchange for its limited mobility improvement. This early prototype was hampered by the lack of a suitable power source that did not burden the unit past its useful load.

The designers took an unorthodox approach in the development process at this point. While technology usually is refined to become smaller and more compact, the successor XM4 project took an opposite direction. By increasing the size of the suit from two meters standing to around eight meters, the designers were able to change the power source from an electrical battery system to internal combustion engine. The XM4 was the first true Arm Slave ever created.

Sousuke scribbled a picture of an XM4.

_**B. **__**Prince Shōtoku (574-622) adopted models of rank and etiquette and and his **__xxxxxx__** prescribed ways to bring harmony to a society chaotic in Confucian terms.**_

The M6 Bushnell is a second generation Arm Slave operated mainly by the United States. It is the successor to the XM4. It was developed by the US in response to the Soviet's Savage. Predating palladium reactors, the M6 relies on a gas turbine engine, the significant acoustic signature of which precludes use of the initial model in missions requiring stealth. The M6 also lacks the high efficiency armor and muscle packages used in the subsequent M9. Hence, it is bulkier and significantly less maneuverable. However, its simpler control functions requires less rigorous pilot training. Maximum Operation Time: 220 hours. Top Speed: 138 km/h. Maximum Jump: 25 meters.

_**C. **__**Victory at the the battle of Dan-no-ura in 1185, led to the**__ xxxxxx __** clan establishing his military government ('bakufu') in its leaders becoming the Shogun (hereditary military dictator).**_

The M9E Gernsback is a third generation Arm Slave. It is primarily used by Mithril and is named after Hugo Gernsback, a pioneering science fiction author. The M9 Gernsback was developed with cooperation from the United States, where It is currently undergoing operational evaluation under the prototype designation of XM9. It is highly maneuverable and is very versatile in deployment and weapon configuration. The M9 comes equipped with an advanced ECS system which allows the use of optical camouflage. M9 Series Arm Slaves differ from the Previous Second Generation by using extensive use of various forms of Electroactive polymers rather than more conventional Hydraulic and Pneumatic found in older generations. This reduces weight, speeds reaction time, reduces noise, and increases power. This however can be taken advantage of. If an M9 is crushed beneath heavy weight, the system is unable to extricate itself.

Also, unlike the previous generation of Arm Slaves, the M9 is powered by a Palladium reactor, removing engine noise from potential issues. Maximum Operation Time: 150 Hours. Top Speed: 250 Kph. Maximum Jump: 45 Meters.

The M9D/A4-1 Falke is a third generation Arm Slave operated by Mithril. It is based on the M9E Gernsback. When Mithril was developing and testing the Lambda Driver, the first unit was installed in an M6 chassis; later though, with the success of the test, it was decided that the M9 would form the actual platform for the Lambda Driver. For that reason, two M9 chassis variants were made, one was the ARX-7 and the other became the M9D Falke.

However due to the suicide of the lead researcher Bani Morauta, the Falke never received a Lambda Driver.

The ARX-7 Arbalest is a third generation Arm Slave operated by Mithril. It is based on the M9E Gernsback and is equipped with the Lambda Driver.

[Sousuke scribbled over the last part and an earlier part whispering 'I never wrote anything about Arbalest'.]

_**D. **__**With the rise of strong regional rulers ( daimyō ) and their victory in the**__ xxxxxx __**(1467-77) left Kyoto devastated and effectively ended the national authority of the **__**bakufu**__**.The war initiated the Sengoku jidai, "the Warring States Period". This period was a long, drawn-out struggle for domination by individual daimyo.**_

The Cyclone is a Second-Generation Arm Slave used by Britain. Built using know-how from the nation's aircraft industry, it is a lightweight machine with exceptional mobility, but it is lightly-armored. Power Source: Gas turbine engine.

The Cyclone 2 is a Second-Generation AS used by the British military. It is a modified version of the earlier Cyclone with twin (coupled) gas turbine engines. Maximum Operation Time: 140 hours. Top Speed: 160km/h. Maximum Jump: 28 meters.

_**E. **__**Japanese leaders began to see Catholicism as a destabilizing influence and foreign intentions in Japan with suspicion after conquest of the Philippines by the Spanish . Japanese leaders passed laws forbidding Japanese to leave Japan and Foreigners from entering, Christianity was banned. One window to the outside world remained at Dejima where the **__xxxxxx __** were allowed to trade. Japan remained secluded from the 1630s to 1858.**_

The Drache is Germany's 2nd-Generation AS. Because it was made with tank technology, it possesses a high defense. Its name is the German word for 'Dragon'."

The C3-5 Mistral II is a second generation Arm Slave operated mainly by France. The C3-5 Mistral II is unique in construction, unlike the M6 Bushnell, Rk-92 Savage and European counterparts like the Drache and Cyclone, the C3-5 is only vaguely humanoid, as it lacks a real 'head' and has an unusually shaped torso. While it has slightly better armor, the C3-5 is also below par of when compared to other Arm Slaves in terms of speed. Like the Rk-92 Savage, the Mistrall II has at times fallen into the hands of dictatorships and terrorists

Maximum Operation Time: 200 Hours. Top Speed: 110km/h. Maximum Jump: 15 Meters.

_**F. **__**After the defeat of the forces of the Tokugawa Shogunate in the Boshin War (1868–1869) of the Meiji Restoration, a part of the former Shogun's navy led by Admiral Enomoto Takeaki former their own short-lived republic, the Republic of Ezo located in **__xxxxxx._

The Type 96 is the standard Arm Slave used by the Japanese Self-Defense Forces. It was modeled after the M6 and shares many similarities. The Type 96 has bulky armor plates, which limit its speed and mobility, but its simple design and controls makes it easier to maintain and repair. The Type 96 can be modified to accommodate two pilots. Maximum Operation Time: 140 hours. Top Speed: 125 Km/h. Maximum Jump: 18 meters.

[His mind drifted a bit. He sketched a futuristic looking A.S. and mumbled 'You look like a raven.' He stopped just short of smacking his face with both hands to regain his focus.]

_**G. **__**Dogu are famous Japanese sculptures that bear resemblance to humans and animals that were made during which period of Japanese history when people living in Japan were still primitive hunters and gatherers?**_

The Rk-89 Shamrock is an early second-generation Arm Slave. After the United States introduced the M4, the Soviet Union introduced the Rk-89 Shamrock. The Rk-89 Shamrock was used against United States-backed resistance forces in Afghanistan. Following the introduction of the RK-92, the Rk-89 Shamrock was almost entirely phased out of service.

_**H. **__**After the radical leaders of Satsuma and Chôshû had overthrown the Bakufu (Shôgunate), they set about turning Japan into a modern nation-state. But first, they had to deal with the rebellion of one of their own, a hero from Satsuma who was dismayed by the ongoing dispossession of the samurai. What was his name?**_

The Rk-91 Savage was the frontline AS of the Soviet Union, but the Rk-92 entered service shortly after it. Some pilots prefer the Rk-91 since its diesel piston engine is relatively quiet compared to the howling gas turbine engine of its successor.

_**I**__**. The new Meiji government began the process of industrialization, supporting the great zaibatsu, who in return agreed to accept the government's direction. Although they no longer exist as zaibatsu, many of these companies are still operating today. Name a surviving Meiji era company?**_

The Rk-92 Riveni…Mithril name 'Savage'… is a second generation Arm Slave operated by the Soviet Union, the People's Liberation Committee, Amalgam, and various other terrorist organizations. Mithril uses it for OPFOR training.

The Rk-92 is the most ubiquitous AS model amongst modern communist nations and has also seen use by terrorist and crime organizations. The Savage has less armor than many European and United States Arm Slaves, but it does have increased maneuverability. The best features of the Savage are without a doubt its low cost and high availability relative to other AS models. Variants of the model and spare parts can almost always be found on the black markets. The Savage is a mass-produced unit used by the Eastern bloc. It has also been exported to other communist nations, including North Korea and North China

With the Rk-92 Savage growing old, the Soviet Union modified the body and installed new equipment to keep it in use. Like the Rk-92, the Rk-96 Savage II is a mass-produced Arm Slave and is popular with terrorist organizations. While the Rk-02 'Scepter' has entered service, the Rk-96 'Savage II' is more popular and far more common.

_**J. **__**In the early years of Meiji, the government was dominated by the old Satsuma/Chôshû elite. However, popular demand for a constitution and parliamentary system was growing. They were finally granted in 1890. Who then became the first Prime Minister of Japan?**_

The Zy-98 'Shadow' is a third generation Arm Slave operated by Amalgam and the Soviet Union. Similar to the Rk-92 Savage, the Zy-98 lacks a Lambda Driver but serves as Amalgam's answer to the M9 Gernsback.

Zy99 variants have entered limited service for the Soviet army and will soon be offered on the Export market. In terms of weapons layout, the Shadow has no defined weapons payload. The Shadow utilizes Electronic Concealment Systems (ECS) similar to the M9 Gernsback.

The Plan-1056 Codarl is a third generation Arm Slave operated by Amalgam. Mithril codename 'Venom', the first Lambda Driver-equipped Arm Slave in Amalgam's arsenal. The Codarl series is based on the frame of the USSR's Zy-98 Shadow.

[Sousuke drew a tombstone and sketched the name 'Guaron' on it, thinking back to the first time he first piloted Arbalest. That bastard's death had come later, but dead is dead. He frowned. A person can live, even as his past self can perish. He drew another tombstone and whispered 'Kashim is dead.' He added that name to the second stone.]

The Plan-1058 Codarl-i is a third generation Arm Slave operated by Amalgam. It is based on the Plan-1056 Codarl and is equipped with the Lambda Driver. It has a similar appearance as the standard Codarl but with a red coloration and a different head with armor plates which retract to reveal additional sensors, it also has a major variation with the heat sink device, having a long fin to the back that deploys itself when using the lambda driver. That principal variation solves the principal problem of the original Codarl… a Lambda Driver with the unfortunate habit of overheating.

The Plan-1059 Codarl-m the mass-production version of the Plan-1056 Codarl.

* * *

There were more questions, giving Sousuke a chance to write about Plan-1065 Erigor and Plan-0601 Leviathan. After that, he switched topics, writing brief eulogies to men he had served with who had died far too young.

The hands on the clock slowly crept around its face. With each passing minute, another sweat drop formed at Kaname's body's temple. Test papers were dotted with small wet spots.

"Ten minutes left," Mr. Watsugi called out. He stood up from his desk, stretched, and cracked his neck and back, before methodically cracking each of his fingers. He limbered up some, getting ready to collect the test booklets.

"**Shit!"** Sousuke tensed up again. His mind began scrambling for new mental footing on slick emotional slopes. He would need a new plan. He would need a new plan _quickly._ What could he do? Wait! What was that? Could it be? Yes! Yes, it _could!_

Tre sound was very faint at first. Kaname's hearing was acute enough to pick it up, before anyone else did. Even the students who had finished writing their answers, and who had checked over those answers, heard nothing out of the ordinary. But, the noise grew louder and louder, and some students did begin looking outside through the windows.

"I wish they would shut up!" One girl was trying to finish up, but was increasingly distracted by the noise of dogs barking.

"_Shhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_ A boy shushed her; but, he couldn't shush the barking, calling, and howling hounds.

"What the hell is happening," Another boy asked. "Did a meat truck crash into a bone truck?" That sounded like a _large_ number of pooches.

"It almost sounds like they're headed in this direction," Mr. Watsuji said to no one in particular.

"Teacher… can we have extra time…." One girl was opportunistic. Sousuke's wish was granted when the teacher denied the request. Even acts of God would not add a minute to test time! That rule was about to be tested in the face of something of biblical proportions.

"_Arf!"_ A brown blur flashed through one back window, knocking the blind up, before it fell back down. A dachshund, slid to a near stop, its feet fighting for grip on the floor, which was still somewhat moist post-deluge.

"**Bark! Bark!"** A golden flash followed the first, kicking the blind up once more. **"Woof!"** This time it was a golden retriever.

"_**A-roooo-ooo-oo-o!"**_ A white streak jumped through the other open window, scrambling to pass through the blind. It was a rather animated toy poodle. _**"Rrrr Rrrr Rrrr Rrrr-rr-r."**_

Subsequent noises all mixed together into a gut-wrenching cacophony. Dog after dog after dog jumped through the windows, destroying the blinds in the process. The was a shiba inu… a papillon… a labrador retriever… a shih tzu… a yorkshire terrier… a pomeranian… a maltese… a miniature schnauzer… a pembroke welsh corgi… a pug… a jack russell terrier… a beagle… and a pekingese. Following just on their tails were a number of Japaneses breeds, including a Japanese chin… a shikoku… a kai ken… a kishu… and an akita.

Dog tags read Momo… Choko… Koko… Sakura… Sora… Maron… Nana… Kotarou… Hana… Reo… and numerous other names.

Tokyo Metropolitan Government Bureau of Social Welfare and Public Health had conducted a survey about dogs and cats and pets of all sorts. Based on the survey, the Government estimated there are 600,000 dogs in Tokyo. To the students, and the people dodging dogs on the street, there was the illusion that majority of that six figure number were there right now.

"What the fuck!" Ono_D's seat was in the just wrong place. Many of the dogs jumped off of his head or battered him with their feet and tails in passing.

"_My favorite pencil!"_ Shinji looked close to tears. He still hadn't recovered from the loss of his digital camera or the wedgie that he had received at the hands of angry girls.

"**You dogs! Out!"** Mr. Watsuji wasn't thinking, obviously. That had been his initial knee-jerk response. Seeing the incredible sight, he wondered if he were asleep and dreaming, waiting for his three alarm clocks to go off. Like everyone else there, except for Sousuke of course, he had no idea how such a thing could come to pass.

Sousuke had sprinkled a hand-crafted solution over his test booklet. Earlier, after opening the windows, he had spread some along the windowsill and vegetation below.

A dog's nasal cavities are made up of over three hundred million olfactory receptors, a whopping forty times more than our human noses. The dog's uniquely shaped nose and nasal cavities also aid in smell by helping to mix new odors with the old when breathing, and to provide an area specifically for scent detection.

This means that when your dog sniffs the air, he is adding to the scent he's already caught, rather than washing it out with breathing like the human nose does. When inhaled air enters the dog's nose, it is split up in the nasal passageways, part of it heading to the lungs to provide oxygen from breathing, and part of it into the olfactory area of the nose located in the back of the nasal cavity.

This area then provides a greater ability to detect and process the smell as the receptors send signals to the brain about the smell, how strong it is, and where it may be located.

Dogs also have a special organ called the vomeronasal organ which is specialized in detecting hormones and pheromones in the body. This special detection center has its own area in the nose and connection to the brain, making it a useful addition to a dog's sense of smell.

Indeed. That organ was the star of the show.

"It's…" Sousuke was caught at the center of a furry maelstrom. "It's working _too _well!"

There was some Classical Japanese History that the stricken sergeant_ did_ know. Back in the day, ninjas lived in the deep mountains, where various type of plants grow. Ninjas lived a life unified with nature and had a deep knowledge of vegetation. So, it is quite natural that Ninjas utilized many wild vegetation for their diet and medical treatment. Ninjas conducted peddling of medicine and went all around Japan. The main reason was to gather information about other countries. It can be said that Ninjas were well informed about medicine even as much as doctors. It was very advantageous for ninjas that they could pretend to be doctors because doctors are someone that can get absolute credit from patients. In instances where the relatives of their enemies were sick, ninjas could approach them as doctors and easily elicit important information from them. Not only that, in a lucky case, ninjas could kill their targets with poison. Poison was very convenient because even weak people can kill someone strong easily. Also, poison can increase the killing power of weapons. For instance, if a ninja painted the essence of aconite on the arrowheads or edge of knives, enemies could be killed from only wounds from scratches made by those weapons.

The raw materials for the medicine and poison existed all around ninjas, so they could collect them easily. But, plants were not their only source of power and utility. Some groups of ninjas, secretive even amongst their own kind, experimented with pheromones, from insects and mammals. Their secrets, when added to discoveries in newer sciences, could produce remarkable results.

Some people are baffled, watching as a dog chows down on a pile of canine crap. The dog is eating feces as a means of gathering information. Detecting the chemical makeup with its vomeronasal organ, a dog can learn about which animal left the feces, their pheromones, and their diet among other information, including the other dog's place in the hierarchy of the hairy.

But, that only accounts for the hormones produced by a dog's anal glands, which can also serve another function, other than being an identification card of sorts. When particularly alarmed, a dog can excrete alarm pheromones from those glands.

There are other body sites that produce pheromones. Substance secreted from the vulvar, preputial, and urinary areas are produced for breeding purposes. Special glands between a dog's toes can be used to mark territory, or as another way to raise an alarm. Hormones produced by glands in the ears help bonding amongst pack mates. Pheromones secreted from the lips and mouth help in greetings. And, substances produced by a mother dog between her breasts provide a sense of calm, comfort, and well-being to nursing puppies. That last hormone is know as the Dog Appeasing Pheromone.

All pheromones are hormones, but not all hormones are pheromones. Ghrelin is a hormone that is produced and released mainly by the stomach in a number of mammals, humans included. Small amounts also released by the small intestine, pancreas and brain. Ghrelin has numerous functions. It is termed the 'hunger hormone' because it stimulates appetite, increases food intake and promotes fat storage. When administered to humans, ghrelin increases food intake by up to thirty percent. It circulates in the bloodstream and acts at the hypothalamus, an area of the brain crucial in the control of appetite. Ghrelin has also been shown to act on regions of the brain involved in reward processing, such as the amygdala. That hormone doesn't survive outside the body well enough for a modern day ninja's usage. But, the synthetic compound capromorelin works very much the same way.

Sousuke had previously made up a number of solutions for possible uses. The one he had used that morning was crafted with a high percentage of capromorelin, to get a targeted item eaten or swarmed over by numbers. For the initial attraction, there was also a large amount of sex pheromones. He had added the Dog Appeasing Pheromone as a set of brakes, a way to create calm after the storm. His calculations were obviously off. That, and he hadn't figured in the full set of natural hormones produced by such a great mass of dogs.

"I-" Sousuke looked like someone sinking into quicksand, his hand the only part of him viewed above a group of dogs which ran around him like a furry cyclone, each vying for the chance to eat the source of the hunger hormone, his test booklet. "This-" He would suffer this as need be. The idea was sound, in his estimation. He had remembered something that one of the scientists had said at the laboratory… something about the classic excuse of 'a dog ate my homework.'

"Yip! Yip! Yip!"

"_Grrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-r!"_

"_**Llll-ll-l Lll-ll-l Lll-ll-l Lll-l!"**_

In brief glimpses that Sousuke could get of his desk, he could tell that the test papers were gone in their entirety, beginning the process of digestion in any number of doggy stomachs. He sighed, anticipating relief, thinking that the storm of man's best friend would now reverse course and head back to their regular rover routines. He had been mistaken, yet again. The hunger hormones had gotten them there. Now, being there, the other pheromones had a chance to play out. When a male dog breaths in enough sex pheromones, he will try to mount the heck out of any perceived mate, even female dogs that had been spayed. Excited dogs are far worse than highschool lads.

"Stop that!"

"_No! Down! Bad dog!"_

"**Not my leg, you flea-bitten freak!"**

"_**Get your damn nose out of my skirt!"**_

Too many male dogs in one room. Too many male dogs on a pheromone high. Too damn many male dogs driven wild by scent, trying and spread their doggy seed. Boys and girls alike fought off dogs, pushing them away or holding them at bay.

"**Help Kaname!"** Shiori called out to Kaname's future date**. "She needs help!"** Dogs were not humping 'Sousuke.' They were licking him all over, still driven wild by the hunger hormone. Still, the overwhelming number of dogs were weighing down on 'his' chest, making it more and more difficult to breath.

"I-" The boy was far enough into a corner to be shielded from milling mutts. "It-" He looked stricken. "I can't-" He made no effort to wade into the throng.

"**She's your date!"** Maya fought valiantly to hold off the advantages of a tiny chihuaha. **"You should be protecting her!"**

"Fuck her!" Mizuki wasn't usually one for swearing. 'Help _me!"_ She was fighting a losing battle against a gigantic Tosa Inu. It looked like her leg would no longer be a virgin. But, the tide of battle changed. Alarm pheromones would soon surge, overcoming the other scents for at least a little while.

"Obey my dog!" One boy felt the need to quote Mugato from Zoolander.

"Get… the… hell… off…." The one sports member who had made it to class, a soccer player, kicked hard to get a tenacious dog off of his leg. "He shoots… he scores…." A fluffy Pomeranian cartwheeled violently through the air, crossing the entire room, striking the class clock on the opposite wall. Dog and clock fell to the ground, both laying still. Time seemed to stop. Literally.

All of the dogs went still, moving only to sniff the air. They all turned to precisely zero in on the soccer boy. Ears went back. Mouths opened. Haunches grew tsnse, before all of the dogs sprung into action at the same moment.

**ARRRRRR-RRRRR-RRRR-RRR-RR-R-OOOOO-OOOO-OOO-OO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Like so many bolts shot out of so many crossbows, the dogs rushed the boy. He saw doom coming his way… threw a couple of classmates towards the rushing dogs… hurdled a couple of desks before tripping over a third… and scrambled to climb out one of the open windows as the first sets of doggy teeth nipped him in the butt.

"Close the window after me!" The stricken athlete cried. _"Pleeee-eee-ee-e-aaaa-aaa-aa-a-se!"_

"Me, too!" Kaname's 'date' took the opportunity to jump out of the other window.

Shump! Shump! If the students had had time to think things through, they would have left those two boys to their own fate. But, having been raised in that country, they quickly closed both windows, watching as a number of enraged mongrels and pure-brads bounced off of the glass. But, raising their hands in expectation of a renewed assault, they were happy to see the enormous mass of dogs head out into the hallway, still moved by their animal anger and the after effects of the alarm hormones.

Shrieks and shouts were heard out in the hallway, as students and school personnel were bowled over by a tidal wave of hairy projectiles. The lack of a janitor would make itself known soon enough. No, the dogs did not stop to pee on anything; however, a number of students peed themselves. At least one teacher did, too.

"Well," Kyouko said, snapping shot after shot at one of the closed windows. "Will you look at _that_…." While many of the dogs were rushing about the hallways, uncertain of how to leave the school building, a large number had found a way out. They were on the street now, making a bee-line for the two streaking boys.

"This isn't going to end well," Tomomi said with a smile. "They will _both_ get what they deserve." The dogs were sure to satisfy their desire for blood on both escapees.

"It will be better for them that way," Daidai remarked. "Poor Kaname… she did nothing wrong… and look at her…" Kaname's body was so covered with hair, that it looked like she was wearing a fur coat. The hair was plastered everywhere by sticky dog saliva.

"She looks like a yeti," Mari said. "But the abominable one was that jerk. He didn't lift a finger to help her."

"Are you still going to go out with a guy like _that?"_ Kyouko extended a hand to help 'Kaname' up, after taking a few choice photos.

"Negative," Sousuke replied. That boy was not worthy. He was also not truthful. If he had _truly _courted death, all he had needed to do was stand still and let the dogs finish him. "He is like a girl pretending to be a boy!" That thought didn't unnerve him as it normally might. He was too angry, realizing what had happened. If the handle hasn't flown off, there is still time to put a pin back in a grenade. As far as Sousuke thought, the handle had flown clear. Kaname's honor was not at stake in this matter.

"I think that Mizuki found _her_ date!" Laughing, Rumiko pointed at the other girl, who was still fighting off the only dog who had remained.

"Should we help?" Maya asked.

"No," Shiori said, chuckling. "I think he's doing well enough on his own." Many students were too shocked still, to laugh at that. Some did. Some of the boys were chivalrous enough to subdue the raging sack of hormones before it could have its way with the ashen girl.

_Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep_

Mr. Watsuji's watch alarm went off. "That's time, people." The burly teacher cradled the stricken pomeranian in one arm, happy to see it begin to regain consciousness. "Time to hand in your booklets" He walked around to gather the completed test materials.

"**Teacher!"** Sousuke stood at attention. Here was the moment he had been planning for. "The dogs ate my test!"

Mr. Watsuji considered sending the Chidori girl and a spare test booklet to the Principal's office, where she could retake the quiz. But, seeing how good a student she was, he would simply average her other quizzes and give her the resultant number. Because he admired the girl's spunk, he would even round the number up one.

"It looks like you need a shower, Miss Chidori." The teacher said. "And maybe a distemper shot!"

"Shower first, please." Kyouko wrinkled her nose.

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_A huge bit of material in verbatim was taken from Full Metal Panic! Wiki._

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**LUNCH PERIOD**

Sousuke used paper towels to clean up a mass of hair.

He had showered off, leaving enough dog hair on the shower stall floor to knit together a dog or three. It had caused the shower to back up some. Hew couldn't have that! He had already washed most of the hallways in the school.

Toweling off, he had no choice but to put on Kaname's sweaty gym clothing. There were no spares in the school, unless some girl had a shirt or skirt that she would lend out. There might also be something he could swipe from the embroidery club. It wouldn't be stealing if he really needed it, _right?_ Moral issues addressed, he now needed to address Kaname's stomach.

"I didn't make first bell," Sousuke griped. First bell at the food stalls sounded when the big canopy doors slid open. Second bell marked the half-way point for the selling period. Third bell meant 'don't bother, we're closing up'. Most of the good food went in a minute or two after first bell. He was looking at the dregs, now. "It is not a problem." He liked the dregs. Few other people wanted the plain rolls.

"Yip yip yip!" A dog shot past him like an arrow.

"_Badddd-dd-d Dogggg-ggg-gg-g!" _

Someone further down the hallway scolded the approaching dog. It could be the food she was carrying. Or, it could be that the dog was still looking for a good time.

Sousuke slid along the wall for a short stretch, trying to keep hidden behind other milling students. A number of the boys he has severely chastised and traumatized were making their way back in school, needing to see Mr. Watsuji about a chance to take the pop quiz. They looked like MMA fighters after a series of bad losses.

"That bitch will pay!" A baseball player claimed, obviously referring to Kaname Chidori.

"No," the school nurse said. "I helieve that was a _male_ dog."

"Here I come to the rescue." That was the Vice President. He had Mr. Ciocio's butterfly net and was a chasing a line of scooting dogs. He loved Marvel movies.

"I've got your six." Not far behind him, Miss Ushihama the school Librarian was running with the school sasumata. She fancied war flicks.

Through all the hubbub and rigamarole, Sousuke managed to make it to the food line. When it was finally his turn, the man apologized for being out of croquette sandwiches and custard filled pastries. Sousuke told the man it was alright, and bought a large bag of white rolls. As the relieved man began looking for butter and bean paste, Sousuke caught wind of a conversation.

"I'm telling you, they will be shutting down the hallways after the coming Prep Time." The girl sounded emphatic. "There should be an announcement of the intercom system any time now." She didn't know that things would be to the contrary. Too many school officials were dealing with the influx of dogs.

"I know that they will be noisy," a boy replied. "But… I still want to see them… it's just like out of the movies. I hear that they're real badasses. Three throwdowns in the past month. They were the only ones left standing.

"It helps that Sanja's family is supporting them," another girl said. "Nobody else has that kind of firepower."

Naturally, hearing firepower… family… left standing… throw downs… noisy… and shutting down the school hallways… Sousuke thought about an invading force. Most like yakusa. That immediately had him remembering his encounter with the yakusa while being chased by that crazed police woman. They must have traced him or her to this school. They were going to make everyone pay for his mistakes.

"Hey," a boy called out. "My parents helped, too. My father purchased the best material, and my mom sewed the famous sashes." The mention of sashes was another confirming point, as far as Sousuke was concerned. And, once again, he was very much mistaken.

"What-" Sousuke's memory was still working. Thought processing? Not so much. But, his memory was doing alright at the moment. In a bit of a haze at the time, he had heard one boy mention Kaname's name… the Engineering Club… and a self-driving car. He also recalled hearing another boy mentioning Sagara and another Engineering Club project. An idea began to form in his mind. He would need to get cracking: he only had the remainder of the Lunch Period, and the Prep Time that followed. After that, he would need to make his way to Home Economics.

""Wake from death and return to life," Sousuke said, calling out a Japanese idiom that was similar to 'Turn a bad or desperate situation into a success." He made his way into the Engineering Club section of the school, happy that club activities were held after school. He remembered now what project the one boy must have been referencing, since he had served as a consultant. And, taking large tarps off of a number or work benches, he quickly found the other project 'Kaname' had been invited to.

One tarp has covered a long and low tracked base, belonging to what was called a self-driving car, even though it had treads instead of wheels. The next bench had a number of advanced computer centers. The final two benches held 'his' baby; the main part and other smaller components belonged to a prototype home defense system. Both projects were autonomous. Both involved robotics. Each had an umbilical attached to a bank of small expensive PCs. He switched everything on, after running to the doors and sliding a broom handle through the upright handles. He could not afford to be discovered or interrupted.

"**I can do this!"** Sousuke wasn't an engineer; but, he didn't have to be. The engineering for each project had long been finished. Most of the construction work was done, too. The final downloads had been left pending, until the club members had decided what type of demonstration would please both the school officials and any possible funding companies. "The work of the big militaries paved the way for our projects."

Lethal autonomous weapons (LAWs) are a type of autonomous military robot that can independently search and engage targets based on programmed constraints and descriptions. LAWs may operate in the air, on land, on water, under water, or in space. The autonomy of current systems as of the current day[update] is restricted in the sense that a human gives the final command to attack… though there are exceptions with certain 'defensive' systems

The oldest automatically-triggered lethal weapon is the land mine, used since at least the 1600s, and naval mines, used since at least the 1700s. Some current examples of LAWs are automated 'hard kill' active protection systems, such as a radar-guided CIWS systems used to defend ships that have been in use since the 1970s. Such systems can autonomously identify and attack oncoming missiles, rockets, artillery fire, aircraft and surface vessels according to criteria set by the human operator. Similar systems exist for tanks, such as the Russian Arena, the Israeli Trophy, and the German AMAP-ADS. Several types of stationary sentry guns, which can fire at humans and vehicles, are used in South Korea and Israel. Many missile defense systems, such as Iron Dome, also have autonomous targeting capabilities

The main reason for not having a human in the loop in these systems is the need for rapid response. The devices have generally been used to protect personnel and installations against incoming projectiles. Systems with a higher degree of autonomy would include drones or unmanned combat aerial vehicles. Future Combat Air Systems will include jet-powered drones that can autonomously search, identify and locate enemies, but will only engage with a target when authorized by mission command. Upcoming applications of unmanned undersea vehicles might include mine clearance, mine-laying, anti-submarine sensor networking in contested waters, patrolling with active sonar, resupplying manned submarines, and becoming low-cost missile platforms. Russia is developing a new intercontinental, nuclear-armed, nuclear-powered, undersea autonomous torpedo named 'Status 6.' The Russian Federation is also actively developing artificially intelligent missiles, drones, unmanned vehicles, military robots and medic robots. Israel is developing military robots, including ones as small as flies. China is developing large autonomous submarines suitable for reconnaissance, mine placement, and suicide attacks against enemy vessels. The US Navy is developing unmanned 'ghost' fleets of ships.

"There is no time for a moral debate," Sousuke claimed as he made an active accounting of all available parts and tools. Several military experts and roboticists have argued that autonomous weapons systems should not only be regarded as morally acceptable, but also that they would in fact be ethically preferable to human fighters. The judgments of autonomous weapons systems will not be clouded by emotions such as fear or hysteria, and the systems will be able to process much more incoming sensory information than humans without discarding or distorting it to fit preconceived notions. Naturally, there are those on the opposite side of the fence, who base their opposition on moral grounds. The United Nations sends artificial intelligence (AI) experts to meet in Geneva routinely, to push ahead with efforts to restrict the development of lethal autonomous weapons systems. 'Artificial Intelligence has the potential to accelerate progress towards a dignified life, in peace and prosperity, for all people,' they are wont to say. Even in civilian life there are obstacles, including ethical issues which must be taken into account: cybersecurity… human rights…. privacy… and things of that ilk.

"Robots cannot feel anger or a desire to 'get even' by seeking retaliation for harm done to their compatriots." Sousuke said to himself. "I believe that people confuse machine autonomy with moral autonomy. Roomba vacuum cleaners are autonomous. So are Patriot missiles. No one has problems with household robots." He scratched Kaname's head. "There are no blueprints for my concept," he lamented. But, his spirits were still high. He had seen a CD cover. Kurz had been jamming to the 'Thundersteel' album by American power metal band Riot. The cover art depicted a humanoid torso and upper body built atop a tracked base. He had the base. He had the upper portion, too. The humanoid portion was unfinished, lacking legs at this point. He saw the basic structures laying on one work bench, but was not dismayed by their rudimentary construction. They would have proven to be less powerful, slower, and with a much lower run time than the self-driving unit he would make use of. "But, I need no guide plans. I will simply add part 'A' to part 'B'. There is a high likelihood of success, giving the work done before me."

Fully autonomous vehicles have been an international pursuit for many years, from endeavors in Japan, Germany, Italy, the European Union, the United States of America, and other countries. DARPA… Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency… funded the development of the first fully autonomous robot beginning in 1966. The first autonomous ground vehicle capable of driving on and off roads was developed by DARPA as part of the Strategic Computing Initiative beginning in 1984. The Grand Challenge was the first long distance competition for driverless cars in the world; other research efforts in the field of driverless cars take a more traditional commercial or academic approach. The U.S. Congress authorized DARPA to offer prize money of one million dollars for the first Grand Challenge to facilitate robotic development, with the ultimate goal of making one-third of ground military forces autonomous by 2015. Prize money was increased in subsequent Grand Challenges. The competition was open to teams and organizations from around the world, as long as there was at least one U.S. citizen on the roster. Teams have participated from high schools, universities, businesses and other organizations. More than one hundred teams registered in the first year, bringing a wide variety of technological skills to the race. In the second year, close to two hundred teams from thirty-six U.S. states and four foreign countries entered the race. In this, the third competition, the numbers had more than doubled. Jindai high school was teaming up with Tokyo University and several national business corporations.

That wasn't the only DARPA money at stake. The DARPA Robotics Challenge (DRC) was moving in new directions as well. Initially, the U.S. Department of Defense put together a strategic plan that called for innovation in human-supervised robotic technology for disaster-response operations, since some disasters, due to grave risks to the health and wellbeing of rescue and aid workers, prove too great in scale or scope for timely and effective human responses. The primary technical goal of the DRC was to develop human-supervised ground robots capable of executing complex tasks in dangerous, degraded, human-engineered environments. Competitors developed robots that can utilize standard tools and equipment commonly available in human environments, ranging from hand tools to vehicles. Competitors were tasked with advancing the state of the art of supervised autonomy, mounted and dismounted mobility, and platform dexterity, strength, and endurance. Initial requirements for all entries was the ability to drive a utility vehicle at the site; travel dismounted across rubble; remove debris blocking an entryway; open a door and enter a building; climb an industrial ladder and traverse an industrial walkway; use a tool to break through a concrete panel; locate and close a valve near a leaking pipe; and connect a fire hose to a standpipe and turn on a valve. Illustrations of those robots usually demonstrated humanoid layouts, bipedal with two arms. But other clever configurations were cobbled together, too.

The next competition after that had been one designed to create useful robot systems for the home environment, devices that could do yard work, pilot home vehicles to perform pick-ups and deliveries, and to provide non-lethal means of home security. The Jindai team had submitted an entry for the rescue challenge, and had taken lessons learned from that contest to build on for the home challenge. Sousuke had been integral to the later project, providing a wealth of knowledge and experience with the actual defense devices that had been incorporated into the humanoid machine.

"That will suffice," Sousuke said, examining the self-driving vehicle. Lithium batteries provided power for powerful electric engines, which powered the drivetrain, which in turn gave motive capacity to a robust pair of rubber tracks good off-road ability. Large lights were mounted at the front and rear of the device, and long whisker-like wires served as a means to operate in environments where visual seekers mounted near the lights could not function. A post on top held various sensors and mechanical manipulation elements, which Sousuke deftly removed with a set of spanner wrenches. "That will fit on top of that." 'That' was the incomplete humanoid project which the young operative struggled to heft into place.

"Perhaps this will one day form the basis of my _next_ export." Sousuke said. He thought of Bonta-kun briefly. He could learn from his mistakes with that seminal product. A suitor who had turned down purchase of the small A.S. had complained about the ridiculous appearance. How many police forces wanted a pacification system that looked like a Japanese fun park mascot?

He shivered, thinking a dark thought. He remembered something that made his and prior efforts seem childish, and made him look at the equipment in the club room as if it were Legos and Super Glue. The Plan-1211 Alastor. The world's first miniature, fully functional A.S. A design. One that Leonard Testarossa created himself, intended to be to be a highly compact ground combat unit that could be easily deployed and used in anti-personal and anti-materiel roles.

"But… it would be overkill for my purposes." Sousuke thought back to the Pacific Chrysalis episode. Alastors were highly successful against soft targets, given their combination of high mobility, firepower and defensive capabilities. They had the capacity to annihilate infantry units with ease. "Their vulnerabilities are in the joints. They are not unstoppable." Larger caliber munitions, 0.50 BMG and higher, would do the trick. Hopefully the yakusa were not packing heat for big game. His construct would be far less robust than an Alastor.

It was humbling, thinking of the genius of Amalgam's Mister Silver. But, that was neither here nor there.

He could only use the tools at hand. He was adept at that.

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**PREP TIME**

"First, the pattern of patrolling." Sousuke needed to set the parameters for the vehicle's travel. He wanted the newly-formed hybrid to be able to keep the school hallways safe, and to be able to work outside the building if necessary. Rudimentary programming details for both of those capacities allowed the vehicle to drive itself outside, and to run various test courses that the Engineering Club members had set up on school grounds. "Good. I can work with this." Sousuke had no way to design neural networks, write code, or build data packets. He had no familiarity whatsoever with C++ languages or simultaneous localization and mapping. But, he _could_ use a mouse to highlight available choices, swiftly clicking on things he wanted and removing things that he did not. He was essentially an intellectual rodent nibbling at the work of giants.

Finished with the base, which he was gratified to find fully charged, Sousuke moved onto the project that he was intimately familiar with. He pushed a number of keys on a computer keyboard and brought the humanoid machine to life. "Good morning, Jeeves."

"Good afternoon," the device corrected Sousuke in an eerie synthesized voice, one which would be changed to something identical to human speech when time permitted. "Would you like the hedges trimmed… a trench dug… the lawn cut… or the trash taken out?"

"Negative," Sousuke replied. "Switch from 'yard car'e to 'home defense'." He watched as different sets of lights began blinking on and off before going out. Panels slid downward, uncovering equipment that he had supplied the club members. "Status report, systems installed and fully operational." There were trade-offs in A.I., of course. The system in the project were far removed from those in Al. However, the lesser device lacked an inquisitive nature and the annoying capacity for unsolicited verbosity.

"Dazzler system installed and fully operational," the robotic voice replied. A dazzler is a non-lethal weapon which uses intense directed radiation to temporarily disable its target with flash blindness. Targets can include sensors or human vision. Dazzlers emit infrared or invisible light against various electronic sensors, and visible light against humans, when they are intended to cause no long-term damage to eyes. The emitters on the project include a diode-pumped solid-state laser operate in green areas of the electromagnetic spectrum. The specific device had been modelled after the Dazer Laser Guardian by Laser Energetics, Inc. "Grenade launcher installed, but still in testing protocol, and hence unloaded. ." The launcher could propel stun grenades, or copies of the Saber 203 Grenade Shell Laser Intruder Countermeasure System, which uses a 250 mW red laser diode mounted in a hard plastic capsule in the shape of a standard 40 mm grenade. "The Mini-Scream is installed and fully operational." Based on the larger vehicle-mounted Israeli 'The Scream,' the mini-version is sonic blaster that shoots repeated pulses of sound at targets, leaving them dizzy and nauseous. "Gas projector is installed, properly titrated, and operational." During the 2002 Moscow theater hostage crisis, Russian special forces used 3-methylfentanyl in an attempt to induce sleep in both hostages and terrorists. Many of the hostages and terrorists… including all of the suicide bombers…were anesthetized, but some terrorists donned gas masks and thus were able to avoid the effects of the gas. While seven hundred hostages were rescued, more than one hundred died from exposure to the gas, because medical professionals did not know which gas had been used, and the antidote to the opioid had not been available on hand. "Taser gun is installed, fully loaded, and operational." A pistol like device could fire 'taser bullets,' a human electro-muscular incapacity round that could stun a target for at least thirty seconds, and in most cases about three minutes duration. "The Strapper is installed, but is currently unloaded." That device utilized the extendable arms of the machine to apply large heavy-duty rubber capture bands specially produced by the Alliance Rubber Company."

"Good," Sousuke said, happy with the general load. Lifting tarpaulins, sifting through boxes, and checking large cabinets, he located the large spool of capture bands and clicked the massive cartridge in place on the machine. He began typing on the keyboard again. "Your numerical designation for this mission is ARX-1/2. Your code name is 'Al Junior.' Do you copy?"

"Affirmative, operator." The machine did not know the name of its controller, unless it was entered into the system for security purposes. Sousuke chose to leave things anonymous. He did not need to receive credit for saving the school.

"Autonomous mode is fully employed," Sousuke said. "I will set specific parameters." Sousuke began typing again, entering simplified criteria, seeing that he was slow at typing, and he wanted to send the hybrid creation on patrol as soon as possible. It would do little good if the yakusa struck while he was in this facility dithering about.

He spoke as he typed in the final entries: "Humanoid… H… U… M… A… N… O… I… D. Red Sashes. R… E… D… S… A… S… H… E…S." He brought up a pull-down screen based on a color chart present on Google, which he accessed through an internet connection on the computer system. He provides specific color shades as examples of 'red,' including Scarlet, Imperial red, Indian red, Spanish red, Carmine, Ruby, Crimson, Rusty red, Fire engine red, Cardinal red, Chili red, Cornel red, Fire brick, Madder, Redwood, Chopcolate cosmos, Dark red, Maroon, Barn red, Turkey red, Cinnabar, and Blood red. "Uhhhh-hhh-hh-h." He debated the final entry on the color chart. It was 'Lust red.' "After the day's events, it seems appropriate." Naked girls. Horny dogs. The pornographic magazine one boy had smuggled into homeroom. Rude comments he had heard throughout the morning.

"Are the instructions entered?" Sousuke asked.

"Affirmative, operator." The machine replied.

"Commence patrol." Sousuke pushed buttons to second the verbal command. He watched as the tracked base performed a series of perfunctory test movements, pulling forward and backward… moving in circles… rotating in place… and the walked over to the doors and removed the broom. He nodded in satisfaction as the hybrid creation used wireless transmissions to prompt the double doors to the room to open. He was amazed at how silent the machine was.

"Patrolling." The autonomous robot headed out into the hallway.

"I will send you some extra eyes," Sousuke said, typing in some activation codes. Sleek black forms took to the air, rising off of cabinet tops and large shelving units. The four-rotor plastic drones carried cameras, and optical scanners. They would be sent throughout the school, and out onto the high school grounds and surrounding neighborhoods.

Sousuke checked Kaname's wristwatch. There was still time to call in to Mithril, to report things that he had seen and done, and to receive any useful intelligence available about world events and local operations. He also noticed the ring once again.

It was orange. As time passed, orange would give way to yellow, and yellow to black. He remembered what the doctor had said about black.

"This is Sergeant Sousuke Sagara… Urzu-7… ID number B-3128…." Sousuke identified himself when he reached the communication console officer aboard the TDD-1. "Please patch me through to the highest ranking member of the Special Response Team." That should be Lieutenant Commander Kalinin. If he was not available, First Lieutenant Clouseau would suffice.

"It's good to hear from you Angel," a voice said, when the connection was made. It was Kurz. Why was he answering? Yang Jun-Kyu, as a corporal, was the only member of the SRT ranked lower than Kurz. "In Ka-nah-may's body, you must be super excited to hear from me!"

"Why _you?!"_ Sousuke was not in the mood to deal with Kurz. "Where is-"

"The old man is in a meeting," Kurz said, happy to put his friend and fellow A.S. pilot on edge. His reference was to Kalinin. "Manga-boy is in with him." That was a reference to Clouseau. "Gail is still dead." That joke did not go over well with Sousuke. It still would have been inappropriate, even if Kurz had used the proper designation for death, 'on patrol'. "Our favorite Sergeant Major is taking a massive dump, after last night's burrito and taco-eating contest." That was Mao. "Hummer and Sandraptor are off base. We still have no replacement for Speck." He laughed. "Lucky you… you got me…."

"**Shit!"** Sousuke mood soured. He felt no urge to eat the plain rolls that he was toting with him.

"But… wait… I bet I know who you really called to talk with…." Kurz laughed. "The pretty little Captain. Am I right? I know why you want her." He burst into song, singing in an ear-hurting falsetto imitation of Dave Edmunds in his Rockpile days:

"_There are some things you can't cover up  
With lipstick and powder  
Thought I heard you mention my name  
Can't you talk any louder?_

_Don't come any closer  
Don't come any nearer  
My vision of you  
Can't come any clearer  
Oh I just want to hear GIRLS TALK_

_Got a loaded imagination  
Bein' fired by girls talk  
It's a more or less situation  
Inspired by GIRLS TALK_

_But I can't say  
The words you want to hear  
I suppose you're gonna have to  
Play it by ear, right here_

_And now, girls talk  
And they want to know how GIRLS TALK  
And they say it's not allowed, GIRLS TALK  
If they say that it's so  
Don't they think that I'd know by nowwwww-wwww-www-ww-w…_ **OUCH!"**

That last exclamation was not part of the 1979 hit song. That was a response to the pain that followed a swift kick betwixt wind and water. A higher-ranking member of the SRT had returned from her visit to the water closet.

"I have a couple of better songs in mind," Mao said, watching Kurz bend over and moan. "Pain." That was a song by Three days Grace. "And 'Broken Bones'." That was a tune by Kaleo. "Sousuke… is that you?" She had taken the com receiver from Kurz's twitching hand.

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied. After Mao told him that Tessa was visiting the laboratory at the Neurological hospital, he gave her a report on his daily activities up to that moment.

"That's great!" Mao's glee was not usually a good thing. "That's just _fucking_ great. I'm sure that the higher ups will think so, too." She had no doubt that someone would blow a gasket or two. Kalaini wouldn't; that man was just too calm and professional for her liking.

As it turned out, the Lieutenant Commander had gotten word of Sousuke's call, and had headed over to the communications area after finishing up with his meeting. Clouseau had passed by too, giving Kurz a disgusted look as he headed off to some other part of Merida Base.

"I'll take over, Sergeant Major," Kalinin told Mao. He took the receiver. "I am interested in hearing your report, Sergeant. First, I need to inform you of certain happenings. A cloaked Arm Slave has come ashore in Tokyo. We suspect Amalgam, and further surmise it must be some Codarl derivative. At this time, we are only observing, as the insertion of such a unit must certainly be meant as a diversion. Japanese Self Defense forces are having no luck. They have attacked unsuccessfully, placing fire at sites of damaged or destroyed buildings. They have received no return fire, or aggressive action of any kind."

"I have a major concern," Sousuke said. He told his superior officer about the camera crew, and specifically their military tattoos. "Those men were asking after myself, and about Miss Chidori." He paused, remembering a first impression. "Their leader… he reminded me of Kurz. Not his inappropriate actions. His movements as a former model. And… well… it might seem odd and reflexive… but I almost wondered if that man too might be an A.S. pilot."

"I see," Kalinin responded. "I an sending you a secure e-mail with photo attachments…" He was silent for a while, completing that effort. "Look at the faces I sent over. See if any look familiar." The snapshots were Intelligence photos that Mithril had on known Amalgam pilots.

"**This one!"** Sousuke had recognized one face. "_Miyamoto Bokuden_… alias Humphry Magunesiumu… codename Mr. Magnesium."

"Good work, Sergeant," Kalinin said. "Seeing that the A.S. in the Chūō-ku ward has been on station for a mwhile now, Bokuden cannot be its pilot at this time, obviously. That does not mean that he cannot take over that position at any time, should he prove to be a more adept pilot, and should Amalagam's efforts require someone of his skill. Of course.. should it prove necessary, we will send Arbalest to you. The A.S. is already loaded in its transport missile."

Other Intelligence information was exchanged in both directions. Kalinin gave a set of instructions, and then showed off his dry sense of humor. "Sergeant Sagara… if you wish… I can place Sergeant Weber back on the line."

"Sir! No sir!" Sousuke's response was adamant and immediate. "I need to keep my wits about me. I cannot be distracted. My next mission may prove difficult."

"Next mission?" Kalinin didn't understand what his subordinate meant.

"Home Economics class," Sousuke reported. "I believe that today's briefing will involve chicken. But, I only know one recipe, and it is for duck." He told them of the cooking lesson he had received, buried amongst an onslaught of jokes, during his helicopter flight out from the Neurological Hospital.

"You can apply that recipe to chicken, if you like." Kalinin smiled, before his face tightened up some. He had been thinking of poultry dishes that his wife had cooked for him, or meals the two of them had worked on together. "Here's another one." He spoke the general recipe for Chicken Plov, a scrumptious chicken and rice casserole recipe from Uzbekistan, with lots of carrots, onions, herbs and delicious spices. "Bon appetit, Sergeant," he said by way of signing-off.

Sousuke felt relieved, when Kalain had suggested that the Home Ec teacher would supply any recipe necessary; but, as a specialist, he always wanted to be prepared for anything. What experience could he bring to a cooking class?

"Perhaps these shall prove useful." He held the bag of rolls aloft. "No!"

That last exclamation was meant for a couple of dogs who had run in through the door that had been left open after the robot's exit. Both jumped up and failed at attempts to snatch the food.

Maybe he should have programmed the robot to clear the school of canine intruders, too.

"Hey, girlie!" A mascot walked past the room, stopping to blow 'Kaname' a kiss. It was Meron Kuma, an ungodly merger of grizzly and melon and a representative of Hokkaido prefecture. "Wanna take me on a personal tour? Wink wink."

"Mascots, too." Sousuke mumbled.

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	13. Chapter 13

**LABORATORY**

"This is so ironic," Tessa said, looking at the furious work that engineers were involved with.

"How's that," Kaname, asked. Like the other Whispered girl, she had been been drained of Black Technology knowledge, and in returned stuffed with more types of current data and information than her mind and body could hold.

"The whole machine is growing so huge," Tessa replied, sweeping her hands about the room. "It's so many times the size of the original apparatus that put you and Sousuke in such a perplexing predicament. Some are calling it the Quantum Quixote."

"But… the irony part…" Kaname looked at her ring. It had recently changed its color to orange. The emotional and psychological pressure she was feeling kept growing more and more suffocating by the minute.

"In physics and chemistry, a quantum is a discrete packet of energy or matter." Tessa nodded her head in assent when an attendant asked if she would like more milk, tea, and lady fingers. She saw 'Kaname' shake her head 'no'. Sipping fresh tea, she continued. "The term quantum also means the minimum value of a physical property involved in an interaction."

"The word quantum is often mis-used as an adjective to mean the opposite of its definition or in an inappropriate context," Miss Uumellmahaye added. "The phase 'quantum leap' is used to suggest a large change, while the definition of quantum is that the change is the minimum amount possible." She frowned, looking at a glowing and thrumming conduit. Some temporary welds had been supplanted by duct tape.

"The first quantum machine was created on August 4, 2009 by Aaron D. O'Connell while pursuing his Ph.D," Dr. Necessiter said. "He and his colleagues coupled together a mechanical resonator, similar to a tiny springboard, and a qubit, a device that can be in a superposition of two quantum states at the same time. They were able to make the resonator vibrate a small amount and a large amount simultaneously…an effect which would be impossible in classical physics. The mechanical resonator was just large enough to see with the naked eye… about as long as the width of a human hair. Devices of that type are growing smaller by the day.""

"And_ there_ lies the irony," Tessa noted. "There are quantum machines that are so tiny. And our machine has grown so huge. It follows the tenets of quantum physics… and even has microscopic quantum devices in critical locations... but it is far from minimal."

"Some are calling me the Quantum Quack," Dr. Necessiter griped. "Even though _I'm_ far from minimal!" He did a quick belly dancer move.

"I've been called the same thing," Dr. Hfuhruhurr griped. "If they were going to grade me on size, they _should_ call me the Quantum Quahog!" He posed in an extremely awkward way. If a mother and daughter were present, the mother would cover the daughter's eyes. "Minimal? Posh!" He looked over at his fellow researcher who held two fingers up, two inches apart. He'd gotten the pesky bivalves mixed up again. "Oh! Not Quahog! Geoduck!"

"Size isn't everything," Anne said, chuckling when she saw the way that the two doctors looked away. That ought to straighten them out a bit, no pun intended. . "But, in this case, large size is to be expected. The machine they are stitching together makes use of Kinetic Energy, Gravitational Potential Energy, Elastic Potential Energy, Hydraulic Energy, Electrical Energy, and Electromagnetic Energy, among others." She frowned, interrupted by two loud-speaking engineers who were discussing how to make better use of the Pony Tail equation and other recent computations as they related to quantum mechanics.

"Not only is it big..." Kaname looked concerned. "But. Well. it's also so... jumbled. It looks like different groups of kids are playing in kindergarten, building competing structures out of wooden blocks." She was Kaname Chidori! She had to keep her spirit up! She wasn't the same depressed young girl she was in America. "And-" She too found her voice drowned out.

"You don't know if the competing structures fit together... and work together..." Tessa practically shouted to be heard. She understood how Kaname must feel. She was frightened herself... frightened for Kaname and Sousuke, people who meant a great deal to her. "I can see that. But, I have to say one thing... we truly_ are_ looking at a miracle. So many people. So many discussions. So many experiments. So many components. So much construction. All of it done in such a short time." If something like this were written into the script of a TV sitcom or a movie, people would find it too tacky and change the channels or leave the theater.

"That's right," Dr. Necessiter said. He spoke loudly, _and_ used sign language. "There is a need for all of it. What transpired the first time was accidental and unexpected. This time, we are working towards a directed event with planning and preparation."

"Competing with the clock," Kaname said, subdued. "Trying to get things back to normal." Even that was a relative thing. She may have given up as much Black Technology information as she could purposefully; but, she was still a Whispered in a world where being so 'blessed meant that one was a fruit or vegetable sought after for squeezing.

"I'm sure-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr couldn't hear his own words. The loud talkers had moved closer:

"Meanwhile, the idea of quantum information processing has revolutionized theories and implementations of computation," a seven foot tall man spoke in a deep sonorous voice, in a conversation that did not involve Kaname and the others. "New quantum algorithms may offer tantalizing prospects to enhance machine learning itself. The interaction between machine learning and quantum physics will undoubtedly benefit both fields after we complete our groundbreaking work here. Fast development of machine-learning algorithms for identifying phases of matter is progressing in the blink of an eye, with so much brain power present in one place at one time."

"Not to mention Black Technology," a second engineer said, standing under five feet in height, with a voice big enough for a man twice his size. "Exciting progress has been made in using artificial neural networks to represent quantum states and solve related quantum many-body problems. As you are well aware, in quantum mechanics, fully describing an arbitrary many-body state requires an exponential amount of information. Consider a system with _N_ qubits, or quantum bits. Each qubit has two possible independent configurations, either 0 or 1; thus there are two to the n possible configurations in total. Computationally, that means fully describing the corresponding quantum state requires two to the n complex numbers. Fortunately, most physical states of interest, such as the ground states of many-body Hamiltonians, typically access only a small corner of the entire Hilbert space of quantum states and can therefore be described with a reduced amount of information."

"Keep this in mind, too." A third engineer also spoke loudly, to be heard off the sounds of banging, welding, drilling, rachetting,and plasma torching. "A renowned description for the states that we are dealing with is the tensor-network representation, in which a tensor is assigned to each qubit, and together those tensors describe the many-body quantum state. Such a construction can represent most physical states efficiently in the sense that the amount of information required scales only polynomially, rather than exponentially, with the system size. A tensor's rank indicates its dimensionality, or the number of indices it has, so rank-1 tensors are vectors, rank-2 tensors are matrices, and so on. For simplicity, consider a one-dimensional system with _N_ qubits, known as the matrix product states representation. Each qubit has an associated rank-3 tensor…." The conversation grew louder by the instant.

"Let's get some fresh air," Anne suggested. She led the two Whispered girls out into the hallway. The two scientists followed. 'Kaname' looked like the scientific talk had left her green around the gills. Tessa looked like the chatter had left her tea tasting somewhat flat.

"That's right," Dr. Necessiter said. "We can view the whole machine better from out here." He missed the evil glare that the Wiccan woman gave him. _"Wow!_ At this distance, we can see the forest, not just the trees. It looks like such a Rube Goldberg Machine." Reuben Garrett Lucius Goldberg, born in 1883, was an American cartoonist, sculptor, author, engineer, and inventor. He is best known for his popular cartoons depicting complicated gadgets performing simple tasks in indirect, convoluted ways. The term 'Rube Goldberg machines' is used to describe similar gadgets and processes. Often, these machines consist of a series of simple devices that are linked together to produce a domino effect, in which each device triggers the next one, and the original goal is achieved only after many steps.

"You said it, Nessie!" Dr Hfuhruhurr had lost his earlier wave of compassion and empathy, more concerned about current observations and expounding than he was about Kaname Chidori's mental make-up. "Or… if you truly were a bloke with a British Mum, it would be a 'Heath Robinson contraption'." William Heath Robinson was an English cartoonist, illustrator and artist, best known for drawings of whimsically elaborate machines used to achieve simple objectives. 'Heath Robinson contraption' is perhaps more often used in relation to temporary fixes using ingenuity and whatever is to hand, often string and tape, or unlikely cannibalizations. Its continuing popularity was undoubtedly linked to Britain's shortages and the need to 'make do and mend' during the Second World War.

"Quite right, mate." Dr. Necessiter tried his terrible accent again. "But… in deference to our wonderful host nation… we could postulate that it might really be _Chindōgu_." That word was applied to a type of prank originating from Japan, which is done by a person seemingly inventing ingenious everyday gadgets that seem like an ideal solution to a particular problem, but are in fact nothing more than a useless gag. Examples include a combined household duster and cocktail-shaker, for the housewife who wants to reward herself as she is going along; the all-day tissue dispenser, which is basically a toilet roll fixed on top of a hat, for hay fever sufferers; the baby mop, an outfit worn by babies, so that as they crawl around, the floor is cleaned.

"But.. remember…" Dr Hfuhruhurr took a stance like the one made famous by the title character on a bottle of Captain Morgan rum. "The selfie stick, when it came out in the 1990s, was dismissed as a 'useless invention' at the time." He wanted to feel a sense of confidence for his own personal reasons. But, his knowledge of errata prompted his tongue again. "It really does seem like some kind of turboencabulator or turbo-encabulator or retroencabulator." Those were fictional machines whose alleged existence became an in-joke and subject of professional humor among engineers. The explanation of the supposed product always makes extensive use of technobabble.

"Right again, chap." Dr. Necessiter said, before quoting the article that gave birth to the gag: "Our machine has a base plate of prefabulated amulite, surmounted by a malleable logarithmic casing in such a way that the two main spurving bearings are in a direct line with the panametric fan. The latter consists simply of six hydrocoptic marzlevanes, so fitted to the ambifacient lunar waneshaft that side fumbling is effectively prevented. The main winding is of the normal lotus-o-deltoid type placed in panendermic semi-boloid slots in the stator, every seventh conductor being connected by a nonreversible tremmie pipe to the differential girdlespring on the 'up' end of the grammeters."

"**THAT'S IT! I SAY THAT'S IT! AND BY THAT I MEAN IT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH 'IT' TO LAST AN ENTIRE LIFETIME!"**

That was Anne. After shouting at the two babbling scientists she politely asked Kaname and Tessa to wait for her there. Then she rolled up her sleeves, put on a very scary face, grabbed both brilliant men by their ears, and dragged them into the Men's Room, not caring what men might be there now, or who might step in before she was done.

"This is really a bit much, isn't it, Anne?" Dr. Necessiter pleaded.

"I mean, we will certainly correct our actions," Dr Hfuhruhurr promised.

Miss Uumellmahaye remained quiet as she thoroughly washed each man's mouth out with soap. When Dr. Necessiter struggled, she asked if she needled to get a toilet brush or wand. He settled down and accepted his punishment.

"_Quoff!"_ Dr Hfuhruhurr coughed. He blew out a large number of tiny bubbles. Like a playful cat, Dr. Necessiter batted at them, wanting to break as many as possible before they hit the ground.

Anne just shook her head. With all that fancy shiny equipment to play with, a world renowned scientist chose to play with soap bubbles. She also felt a bit guilty and hypocritical. She might be a bit more responsible, verbally; but, that had not stopped her from remembering the word 'Veeblefetzer' while looking at the growing machine. That was a word usually used facetiously as a placeholder name for any obscure or complicated object or mechanism, such as automobile parts, computer code and model railroad equipment.

"Oh… Anne… here you are…." Another of the hospital administrators walked in, one who was also a lawyer. "You… here...why" He looked over at the two soap-bubble covered doctors and understood. "Ah. I see. While I have you, let me say that the latest batch of tests have showed great success. I wouldn't be shocked if the whole jury-rigged projects actually succeeds!"

"**Grrbblltt!"** Dr Hfuhruhurr tried to say 'great', having heard the report. Bubble danced on his breath.

"That's the bee's knees. That's the dog's bollocks!" Dr. Necssiter said, swiping a couple of more bubbles, after hand-fighting with his fellow scientist. "I'm truly chuffed! It's boss, brill, banging, and bazzin'."

"Have they been like this all day," the administrator asked Anne.

"Worse," Anne admitted with a sigh. "Much worse."

"You have my condolences," the man replied.

When Miss Uumellmahaye returned to the two girls, she was just in time. "I will take that," she said, taking an i-Pad from Kaname's grasp, an tossing it back over her head to man who had made loan of the device."

"But-" There was a pleading look in Sousuke's eyes, something that had never been seen when his own brain was in his own body.

_"NO!"_ Anne said succinctly.

"That's alright," Tessa said in an aside to Kaname. "I'll just call Commander Mardukas and-"

_**"DENIED!"**_ Anne shot down the Captain's plan, too.

"I have a better way," Dr. Necessiter quipped. He wasn't a slow learner. He just couldn't help himself. "Look over there…." There were huge spools of wire of different grade and different metals, pushed against a wall of the hallway. They had been rolled out from a number of materials storage areas. "We have enough wire to reach the school and back a couple of times over. All we need is a pair of cups and we can-"

"Have you ever had your head flushed in a toilet," Anne asked Dr. Necessiter. He decided to go supervise a group of engineers.

"She might be right about avoiding outside news," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, his face clean for the first time in weeks. He took a professional stance, looking like the ideal philosopher. "There are more important things to worry about, are there not?" He winked at the girls, adopting a more slouched posture as he began singing The Eagles to irritate Anne:

"_Raven hair and ruby lips  
Sparks fly from her fingertips  
Echoed voices in the night  
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight_

_Woo hoo, witchy woman  
See how high she flies  
Woo hoo, witchy woman  
She got the moon in her eye_

_She held me spellbound in the night  
Dancing shadows and firelight  
Crazy laughter in another room  
And she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon_

_Woo hoo, witchy woman  
See how high she flies  
Woo hoo, witchy woman  
She got the moon in her eye."_

"Let me tell you what _I _could do with a silver spoon," Anne said under her breath.

"Miss Tessa, Miss Tessa," an engineer called out, a flushed look on his freckled face. "We need you again. Your expertise on the TDD-1's TAROS will prove useful. We are finishing up our part of the project."

"Duty calls," Tessa said, handing her teacup to Anne, before wolfing down the last of her lady fingers.

"I wish Sousuke would," Kaname said quietly to herself. She was about to ask if there was a place that she could take a nap, if no one needed her at that moment. Maybe napping would even help preserve her level of psionic energy longer. "Wait-" Something caught her eye.

"What's going on here?" Anne asked, showing her administrators ID badge to the first in a column of workers headed towards the laboratory.

"We've been tasked with delivery," A bearded man in a hard-hat replied. He showed Anne a clipboard with a signed manifest. As he stood watching the woman read, he flinched when a voice down the hallway called out.

"What is the _hold up_, gentlemen?" A small-headed man with exceptionally large ears walked up, unconsciously picking his long and pointed nose.

"Reginald," Anne called out to the man. He was an administrative assistant whom she had dealt with on previous occasions. "What may I ask is going on here?"

"It's all written there," Reginald Hornblower replied pointing at the paperwork. "This comes from upstairs." By that, he meant it came from the Board of Directors. "They were antsy to begin with, and have only grown more so. I think that they worry they won't get the credit if things go well… but will get the blame if things go bad…."

"So?" Anne narrowed her eyes. She had an inkling of what the higher ups might be thinking.

"It would look bad if our two young visitors died in your experimentation," Reginald said. "They don't think it wise to perform the first and only procedure on Mr. Sagara or Miss Chidori."

"Don't you mean to say that they are concerned about their welfare?" Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, a stern look on his face. "Don't you mean _that's_ what comes first?"

"Of course, doctor," Reginald replied, his face emotionless. "Of course. The patient _always _comes first." He waved for the men to continue on their way. "It's an order for me. And… I might add… it is an order for you." He meant that last for Anne and Dr. Hfuhruhurr both. "You can call upstairs if you like… but I don't recommend it…."

Kaname watched the first man walk by. He wore a hard-hat; but, she didn't see why he needed to. Or why any of the men with protective headgear did, for that matter. The first one carried two large plastic bags, each holding a Goldfish. The second one hugged two glass containers to his chest, each housing a Cane Toad. The third one pushed a wheeled cart with two wire cages, each with a frightened feline inside. The fourth one held two leashes, each leading to a collared sheep, one ran and one ewe.

"The animals went in two by two, Hurrah! Hurrah!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "The elephant and the kangaroo, Hurrah! Hurrah." He was thinking of Noah's Ark; but, he was a bit off. God's specific instruction to Noah was to take two of every unclean animal, but seven pairs of every clean animal and seven pairs of every type of bird. Clean land animals are those that 'chew the cud' and have a divided hoof.

"So I suppose these are surrogates?" Anne looked angry and perplexed. She began tapping her foot rapidly, agitated and protective.

"You look a bit twitchy," Reginald said, picking at his nose. "That's a bad habit."

"I know a worse one," Anne shot back, channeling Willy Wonka. "You_ do_ know that those animals have no minds to transfer, _right?"_

"That's just the point," Dr. Necessiter said, having walked back to see what the commotion was about. "They didn't supply animals to confirm that Kaname's and Sousuke's brains will get back the way they were. They simply want to make certain that the energies involved won't kill living organisms. Whatever their motives, the decision makes sense."

"I don't see why you're so upset," Reginald said. "I mean you _are_ a witch." He fought a losing battle, trying not to snicker. "_Tee hee._ Animal sacrifices and all that." He gave her a condescending look. He was a practicing Protestant. "That's truly backwards and barbaric!"

"Most modern Pagans and Heathens shy away from… or are downright horrified by… the idea of animal sacrifice." Anne was growing angry. She had to deal with numerous people who had the wrong idea about the Wiccan religion. "It goes against our Rede." She made a sour face. The two of them had never gotten along. "Sure… but _you're_ not hypocritical at all. It's alright to torture and exploit animals for profit, of course. They are a cog in the machine of Corporate Capitalism, after all. It's okay to torture them for TV and movies… skin them for shirts and belts… force feed them to become food… murder them for the sake of medicine. Talk about barbaric!"

"Murder?" Reginald seemed taken aback. "_Murder!_ You work in a hospital, for God's sake. Animal research has had a vital role in many scientific and medical advances of the past century and continues to aid our understanding of various diseases. Throughout the world, people enjoy a better quality of life because of these advances, and the subsequent development of new medicines and treatment…all made possible by an-i-mal re-search."

"This is neither the place nor the time for fighting," Toyotomi Mitsunari opined, walking up. "We're not setting a very good example for our visitor." He bowed in Kaname's direction.

"What?" Reginald seemed to be a bit hot under the collar. His temper had him rudely challenging someone of higher station. "Have you converted to witchcraft, too? Just remember what the Bible says. 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'_\- Exodus 22:18. _That might also hold true for-" He held his tongue, but his gaze still wandered to Kaname. He had been about to add '-the Whispered, too.'

_"_First, I'm Pentecostal," Mr. Mitsunari replied. "Second, you are repeating a mistake that others have made… one that is responsible for the witch burnings that plagued Europe, and later America, in the Early Modern Period. The original Hebrew word used in Exodus, translated by some as 'witch,' is _mekhashepha. _Some people forget to put things in the proper context_. _In the third century B.C., the word may have meant_ '_poisoners' or 'herbalists', and not people who used magic for evil. And the Whispers are a modern conundrum. I doubt that they have any religious connotations whatsoever." He set his jaw, looking more than a bit peeved. "Third. Your uncle may sit on the Board of Directors-" He met the other man's gaze. "-But my _father _does, too."

"That-" Reginald swallowed hard. "I should see to the animals." He scurried off. When one of the sheep went '_baaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-ah_,' he snapped by saying **"Shut up!"**

"My apologies, Miss Chidori." Mr. Mitsunari said. "I will not lie. There are people in the administration who put money and reputation first. I am happy to say that they are in a minority."

"Thank you, sir." Kaname said. "I can't say he's the only person who would look at the Whispered funny, if they knew we exist." She let out a long heavy sigh. "And… well… I _am _conflicted about animal research. That man did make valid points…." She looked ready to cry. "But… seeing those animals…."

"Let me guess," Mr. Mitsunari said. "You feel a lot like a lab rat today, _right?"_

"Yes," Kaname said. "And… well… I'm sorry…." She stood straighter. Feeling sorry for herself would _not _serve any purpose. "Even though I know that most of the people here are working for my benefit… or at the very least mean me no harm… I can't help but think of something that Sousuke told me about." She hesitated, knowing the topic wasn't a pleasant one, to put things mildly. "Unit 731."

"Oh." Mr. Mitsunari looked uncomfortable. That was not a pleasant national memory. "That." There are some stains that time can never wholly wash away.

"What is Unit 731," Anne asked with some trepidation. It took a lot to discomfort Toyotomi Mitsunari, the 'Rock of The Tokyo Neurological Center'.

"Despite innocent beginnings as a research and public health agency, Unit 731 grew into a covert biological and chemical warfare research and development unit of the Imperial Japanese Army that undertook lethal human experimentation during the Second Sino-Japanese War of World War Two." Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "It was responsible for some of the most notorious war crimes carried out by Imperial Japan. Unit 731 was based at the Pingfang district of Harbin, the largest city in the Japanese puppet state of Manchukuo, now Northeast China. It is not a subject that most Japanese know about. And few who do wish to speak of it."

"It was officially known as the 'Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of the Kwantung Army'," Dr. Necessiter added. "At least three thousand men, women, and children… mostly Chinese, but also Soviet, Mongolian, Korean, and Allied POWs… were subjected to experimentation at the camp based in Pingfang alone. That number does not include victims from other medical experimentation sites, such as Unit 100, an Imperial Japanese Army facility called the 'Kwantung Army Warhorse Disease Prevention Shop' that focused on the development of biological weapons."

"Wh-" Anne wasn't sure she wanted to know. "What did they do?"

"I must admit that my mother's brother worked at a site in Pingfang," Mr. Mitsunari said solemnly. "I feel I must bear some of his shame, myself. Test subjects were sometimes referred to euphemistically as 'logs', used in such contexts as 'How many logs fell?' That term originated as a joke on the part of the staff, because the official cover story for the facility given to the local authorities was that it was a lumber mill. The members of researchers at the unit numbered approximately three hundred, and included doctors and bacteriologists. Many had been desensitized to performing unpleasant experiments by their experience in…."

"Animal research," Kaname said.

Mr. Mitsunari coughed to clear his throat. "Thousands of men, women, children, and infants interned at prisoner of war camps were subjected to vivisection, often without anesthesia and usually ending with the death of the victim. Vivisections were performed on prisoners after infecting them with various diseases. Researchers performed invasive surgery on prisoners, removing organs to study the effects of disease on the human body. These were conducted while the patients were alive because it was thought that the death of the subject would affect the results."

"That-" Anne went pale. "That's-"

"Prisoners had limbs amputated in order to study blood loss. Those limbs that were removed were sometimes re-attached to the opposite sides of the body." Mr. Mitsunari clenched his hands into fists. "Some prisoners had their stomachs surgically removed and the esophagus reattached to the intestines. Parts of organs, such as the brain, lungs, and liver, were removed from some prisoners. Victims were injected with diseases, disguised as vaccinations, to study their effects. It-" He coughed again.

"If I may," Kaname said, looking at the man with sympathy in her eyes. She had broken down into tears herself, when she forced Sousuke to tell her as many details as he could. She didn't know if any of her relatives were associated with atrocities during the war. "Plague fleas, infected clothing, and infected supplies were encased in bombs and were dropped on various targets. The resulting cholera, anthrax, and plague were estimated to have killed at least four hundred thousand Chinese civilians. Tularemia was tested on Chinese civilians, too."

"They were doctors-" Anne was too terrified to imagine what the prisoners must have gone through. Instead she focused her silent outrage at the perpetrators.

"Thank you, Miss Chidori." Mr. Mitsunari straightened his shoulders. "I can continue. Physiologists conducted experiments by taking captives outside, dipping various appendages into water, and allowing the limb to freeze. They could tell when they were frozen, a Japanese officer testified, when they struck by a cane and emitted a sound resembling the one which a board makes when _it_ is struck. Ice was chipped away from the frozen arm and the area doused in water. The effects of different water temperatures at rewarming the areas were tested by bludgeoning the victim to determine if any areas were still frozen." He hung his head. "Doctors orchestrated forced sex acts between infected and non-infected prisoners to transmit syphilis. Female prisoners were forced to become pregnant, for use in experiments. A large number of babies were born in captivity and were all killed after birth. Mothers and fetuses together were killed and cut open. Human targets were used to test grenades positioned at various distances and in different positions. Flamethrowers were tested on humans. Humans were also tied to stakes and used as targets to test pathogen-releasing bombs, chemical weapons, and explosive bombs. Prisoners would be tied to stakes and used as targets for bayonet practice."

"Like in North Korea today," Kaname said quietly, remembering something else that Sousuke had told her. She shivered. It was hard enough hearing about terrible things. What must Sousuke have suffered, _seeing_ terrible things?

"In other tests, subjects were deprived of food and water to determine the length of time until death," Mr. Mitsunari continued. "Some were placed into high-pressure chambers until death; experimented upon to determine the relationship between temperature, burns, and human survival; placed into centrifuges and spun until death, to experiment on G-forces; injected with animal blood; exposed to lethal doses of x-rays; subjected to various chemical weapons inside gas chambers; injected with sea water; and burned or buried alive. Some tests had no medical purpose at all, and instead were intended to administer excruciating pain, such as injecting horse urine into prisoners' kidneys." He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. There were many more examples; but, he had said all that he could.

"During the final months of World War II, Japan planned to use plague as a biological weapon against San Diego, California," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "The plan was scheduled to launch on September 22, 1945, but Japan surrendered five weeks earlier."

"That plan was titled 'Operation Cherry Blossoms at Night'," Dr. Necessiter remarked. "Five of the new I-400-class long-range submarines were to be sent across the Pacific Ocean, each carrying three Aichi M6A _Seiran_ aircraft loaded with plague-infected fleas. The submarines were to surface and launch the aircraft towards the target, either to drop the plague via balloon bombs, or to crash in enemy territory. Either way, the plague would then infect and kill many thousands of people in the area. Earlier, during the Philippines Campaign in March 1942, the Japanese considered releasing one hundred and fifty million plague-carrying fleas in ten separate attacks, but the Americans surrendered at Bataan before the plan was implemented. During the Battle of Iwo Jima, another biological attack was considered against the invading Americans. Two gliders carrying pathogens were supposed to be towed over the battle and released, but the gliders that were supposed to take off from mainland Japan to Matsumoto's airfield in Pingfang District in preparation for the attack never reached their destination."

"With all those terrible things… and so many I did not mention-" Mr. Mitsunari said. "-The Americans still granted those monsters immunity. Until the Japanese were threatened with bringing the Soviets into the picture, little information about biological warfare was being shared with the Americans. The Japanese wanted to avoid prosecution under the Soviet legal system, so after the threat was made, an American Lieutenant Colonel… who was also a noted microbiologist… received a manuscript describing Japan's involvement in biological warfare. When that manuscript was shown to General Douglas MacArthur, who was the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers responsible for rebuilding Japan during the Allied occupations, he struck a deal with Japanese informants. He secretly granted immunity to the physicians of Unit 731, including their leader, in exchange for providing America… but _not _the other wartime allies… with their research on biological warfare and their data from human experimentation. The U.S. believed that the research data was valuable, and did not want other nations… particularly the Soviet Union… to acquire data on biological weapons."

"That's what happens after wars," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Not only do victors write history, but they often gather the spoils of the defeated, even when they were gained in nefarious or nauseating ways. For example, Arthur L. Rudolph, a Nazi scientist who ran the Mittelwerk munitions factory, was brought to the United States in 1945 for his rocket-making expertise under Operation Paperclip, an American program that recruited scientists who had worked in Nazi Germany. Rudolph has been honored by NASA, and is credited as the father of the Saturn V rocket."

"Worse," Dr. Necessiter added. "Otto Von Bolschwing was an associate of Adolf Eichmann, _and_ had helped develop the initial plans to purge Germany of the Jews. He later worked for the C.I.A. in the United States. So… if that kind of thing can happen in a country that has ostensibly striven to champion truth and justice…." He did not mention that in America, Russia, and other nations after the war, governments sponsored experiments on soldiers, prisoners and minorities among their _own_ citizens.

"It can… and _will_… happen somewhere else." Anne looked stricken. It was all too much for her. She felt silly, thinking that animal experimentation was one of the pinnacles of man's cruelty. She put a hand to her mouth. She couldn't help but stare at Kaname. The things that Amalgam might do to her!

"But there are those who fight against such things," Tessa said, having overheard part of the conversation. She needed Anne's permission to perform a test on a section of machinery at the request of some engineers. "In the United States, and in this country. And, as you know, both nations are among those who fund Mithril. And… if Amalgam is the organization that patterns itself after evil empires… then Mithril is the organization designed to stop them. I truly believe that. We are _not_ cut from the same cloth."

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said.

The men and women in that little group were silent for a minute or so after that. Mr. Mitsunari broke the silence with a pledge. "Miss Chidori… let me say this… regardless of what any person in this facility might want… I will never let you be used as an experiment. Never." He was obviously sincere.

Even though she had felt so sad hearing and saying what she had, Kaname felt a great deal better after being given that promise. A lot of her pent-up fears and suspicions started evaporating.

"Thank you," Kaname said.

Anne felt better, too. "Gentlemen, the lattes are on me!" Everyone was psyched. The lattes at a fancy hospital snack bar were to die for.

"I should warn you all," Dr. Necessiter said, wagging a pointer finger. "I fart after I latte."

"No good deed goes unpunished," Miss Uumellmahaye whispered.

"Captain," Mr. Mitsunari said in a very formal and serious tone. "Does Mithril have a faraway facility in need of another scientist." He was looking at Dr. Necessiter.

"Would the East Antarctic Plateau do?" Tessa said with a straight face. "Near the South Pole?" The temperatures in basins there were the lowest on earth, averaging minus 138 Fahrenheit, and dipping as low as minus 148. There was no Mithril facility there. "We could find room for two, if need be."

**"Perfect!"** Mr. Mitsunari said. "Let's call it a deal. I'll send you the necessary papers."

_"No need!"_ Dr. Necessiter said in a rush. "I'll keep my butt cheeks tight together."

"Lovely," Kaname said.

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	14. Chapter 14

_I suggest taking a pee break before starting this chapter._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**HOME ECONOMICS CLASS**

Wiping the last of the grease from his hands with a moistened paper towel, Sousuke approached the door of the Home Economics classroom.

He could only approach, because the door had only just been unlocked by the teacher, and most of the class was already in line, waiting to get in. There was the usual smattering of boy's talk, complaining about the need to take the class, accompanied by unrelated girl talk.

"It's been such an unusual day," Kyouko noted, reviewing the day's photographs, ignoring boy and girl talk alike. "If I sent these pictures to another high school, they'd claim that they have been Photo-shopped… fakes…who could believe it"

"Shit," one boy said, "Crazy doesn't begin to explain it!" He looked over at his buddies, who all nodded in agreement. "Things aren't this weird when Sagara's around."

"Oh man," another boy exclaimed. "Can you imagine how the events might have gone, if that military freak _had_ been here today? Mayhem multiplied!"

"Please don't imagine such things "Maya said. "It would be like finding yourself in the middle of the Apocalypse."

"The End of Days," Daidai remarked.

"Ragnarok," Shinji said aloud. Under his breath he said: "That would be sooo-oo-o cool!"

"Let's not take a time machine back to the early Kamakura period," Rumiko said. A great uneasiness among the Japanese people had arisen from consecutive disasters, famines, wars at that time connected with the misunderstood Buddhist teaching 'mappo.' "That Latter Day of the Law' stuff had people believing that the world was coming to an end soon."

"It's not like someone is building a big boat," Ono-D said. "And animals are coming two by two." He didn't specify whether he was remarking about the legend of Noah, or the Epic of Gilgamesh. Both stories had huge ships being built and then loaded with all of the animals of the earth.

"Whether the world ends or not, it was stinking strange, _wasn't_ it?" A boy started counting on his fingers as he made his way into the classroom. "Hypnotic speeches. Crazed police women. Exploding bowels, bladders, and bellies. Serial killers… _yanki_… mascots. **Chainsaws!"**

"Kaname speaking," Satomi Yamazaki said, still aching in the anus. "Kaname as a comedian. Kaname dancing. Kaname pretending to be an action hero. Kaname with blue hair. Kaname with black hair. Kaname with blue hair again. A _real _woman can make up her mind."

"That's right," Mizuki agreed. "A real woman doesn't need to act like a damsel in distress, just because a man has a butterfly net. And a moral woman wouldn't be running outside with just a towel or two."

"Shut up, ass wipe." One of the returning sports club members didn't want to think about that or hear about that. He had been thoroughly embarrassed, and his need for revenge was only equaled by similar needs of his fellow athletes. "Just zip it!" He would lay low in this class. After day sports would be starting soon enough.

"Nobody mentioned the humping hounds from Hell," one boy noted. "Or the towering tsunami in the hallways. What's next, an alien altercation?"

"No," a girl said, breathless, stepping into the room just before the door was closed. "It's _robots._ I think I just saw a robot."

"Yeh, right!" One of the athletes scoffed. "You ought to get that brain tumor taken care of… or get a new pair of glasses."

"I _don't _have a brain tumor," the girl said in a huff. "And I _don't _wear glasses."

"Then it's probably time you start," another athlete said. "The glasses, I mean." In a strange intonation he said "Take… me… to… your… leader…"

"That's what aliens say, jock itch." A member of the girl's kendo club made a face. "That does _not _compute!"

"Much better," Shiori said.

"There once was a woman from Venus, who's body was shaped like a..." One boy was obviously a big fan of Star Trek the Next Generation. **"DATA!"**

Girls just shook their heads. Some boys chuckled. Having tied his apron on, the Home Ec teacher was heading over to corral the milling class.

"_KLATU VERATA NIKTO!"_ Shinji was excited. He thought he had made a big score. He remembered someone saying that phrase at a SciFi convention.

"Great movie," Kyouko said. She was a fan of black-and-white SciFi and horror films. The classic 1951 sci-fi film 'The Day the Earth Stood Still' was one of her favorites. "But that's not what the robot said. That's what the alien Klaatu says to halt the robots rampage."

"What does Chidori say to halt Sagara's rampage," Mari said facetiously.

"She doesn't need words," Tomomi replied. She picked up a rolling pin and struck a stack of hand-towels. "W-h-a-m!"

"That's right," one girl said. "She's our first line of defense against robots… _if_ they ever show up…."

"Like _that's _going to happen!" A boy sneered.

"**No! I **_**mean**_** it!"** The girl who had first mentioned a robot had been quite serious. "It was taller than me. It was riding a small tank or something."

As the other students bickered, Sousuke once again appraised his surroundings. The large room had a large central wood-topped table, its surface essentialy a giant chopping block. Open areas in the sturdy metal frame held electric appliances and large cooking containers. Smaller tables criss-crossed the room in the center area. Large ovens and stoves line one wall, and sizeable cooktops lined another. Large sinks were present at different sites, as were drains inn the floor. A room off to one side held large cleaning vats and dishwashing machines. An area near the windows had large racks with hangers, holding robes and aprons, as well as costumes sewn by Home Ec students. Some costumes were for school plays, while others were for holiday ceremonies and celebrations. There was a large white rabbit… Saint Nick… Halloween witches, goblins, and ghosts… and sundry other national holiday apparel. There were large manakins, some naked, and others holding partially made clothing or blank canvas. Tools and utensils of numerous types filled drawers and cabinets.

"Let me have all of your attention, please." Nobu Morimoto said, twirling his Fu Manchu mustache. "Today is a cooking class. It will be Chicken, Bread, and Eggs. But I will get to that later. He held up two stacks of paper. "Here's reading material that reinforces the value of this class. An article by Miho Kawamura entitled 'Japanese Home Economics Education 'Kateika': All Children Love It'. And another, 'Japan's Vegetable-Eating Men' by Amy Westervelt. Before we get to the day's work, I will summarize the content."

"Well _whoopdee _fucking _do_," a boy said, louder than he had intended.

"I'm thinking of proposing a new policy," Mr. Morimoto said. "Troublemakers get to clean the pots and pans after class." That was nothing new. "And… they get to clean all of the toilets, too." Since most schools did not have janitors, that task was done at the end of the day by all students, or all except the senpai in some schools. That held true for Jindai, seeing that Mr. Oonuki didn't do toilets. And if he did, he would be of no use having been taken into custody.

"There are some serious problems about human health and eating foods in the world," the teacher said. "Some countries are reevaluating food education and Home Economics education because of the need for solving these urgent issues. For example, the government of the United Kingdom has started Food education for all children in elementary and junior high schools. In Danish compulsory primary and lower secondary schools, a new subject, Food Knowledge, was introduced. Kateika… Japanese Home Economics Education… has a long history in Japan and accumulated much research and experience related to food education and children's daily lives. As you all know, Kateika is a compulsory subject for students from fifth grade in elementary school to Senior high school. And as you have been finding out, Kateika covers a wide variety of fields; food, clothing, living, baby and child, elderly, economics, family, and environment. Kateika has needed to change its goals during its long history to conform to social conditions."

"It once only placed great significance on acquiring skills for daily life a long time ago," one girl remarked.

"Brown-noser," one athlete said, doubting the teacher would follow through with his threats."

"We have our first 'volunteer' it seems," Mr. Morimoto said. Some students snickered, stopping when he glanced over at them. "Kateika now emphasizes not only the acquisition of skills, but also problem solving. This is useful for students in two ways. _One_ is useful for students in their daily lives. Students sometimes cook in their homes for their families using their skills learned from Kateika classes. Those experiences are good for students, because they can get some competency and self-esteem. _Another_ is useful for the students' futures. Interests for something and problem solving may be not useful now; but, will be useful in the future. There are many problems in our lives that need to be solved by ourselves. I'm certain you find that to be true, Miss Chidori."

"Uhhh-" Sousuke didn't want to stand out. It sounds like he had shown up far too many times already on the radar of the other students. He kept forgetting. 'Low key' was the word of the day. Well, the two words of the day. How could two tiny words be so difficult to remember! "It has proven necessary, living on my own."

"When students study Kateika, they are preparing for their future lives," one girl said. Her father did problem solving in a medical setting for a living. "There is not only one solution for problems and troubles in our lives. We need to choose the best solution for problems at that time. Students can learn many things in order to choose the best answer for themselves in Kateika classes."

"That will only help you in the future," Mr. Morimoto said. "What is useful in Home Economics Education? We know that it isn't easy to acquire skills for daily life. It will take a long time to acquire skills, for example, using kitchen knives, sewing, and cleaning rooms. Some people think that Kateika classes are not effective for students with no skills; but, experiences in Kateika classes are useful for students for now and in the future. In other words, Kateika can encourage students in their daily life, and promote them to be more conscious in their lives."

"To be independent, you mean." Maya said. "Like by cooking for ourselves, washing clothes by ourselves, and cleaning rooms by ourselves."

"Exactly," Mr. Morimoto replied. "To be capable. Not, as a matter of exclusion. We should connect with others and do everything to help each other. To help and to be helped by others will make our society good and comfortable for _everyone._ And… you boys listen up… it is a particularly useful lesson for you."

"But my mother does all that," one boy claimed. "And someday-" He stopped when the teacher held a hand up, and light shown off of his gilded front teeth.

"You were going to say 'And someday my wife will do it for me,' _weren't _you." That was a rhetorical question. The teacher was happy. The boy had brought up his major point. "What if you never have a wife? Or a girlfriend? What then?"

"He'll probably run out of tissues," one boy said, realizing his gaff too late.

"Another volunteer," Mr. Morimotoa said.

"It is useful learning culinary skills," Sousuke said. "Knowing what to eat and how to cook it is one of the most important survival skills." He ran off a quick primer on what foods in the wild were edible, and which were not. He slowed to a halt, remembering those two words again.

"Is _she_ going to be a volunteer, too?" Satomi said hopefully. "For interrupting our class with all that nonsense?"

"No," Mr. Morimoto replied. "But you will do fine, if you wish. While a bit… esoteric… Miss Chidori's comments were cooking related. Where was I. Yes. Another fact I'm sure you've all heard is that Japan has a plummeting birth rate… an aging population with the oldest population in the world… and, thanks to the combination of low birth rates and tight immigration policies… a growing labor shortage. This prompted the government to turn its attention to an underutilized labor force. Can anyone guess…."

"Women," Shinji said. His mother worked.

"Very good," Mr. Morimoto said.

Sousuke almost opened his mouth, mentioning how Mithril had a great many women serving in the same manner as men. He whispered: "Be the ball… don't drop the ball… be the ball… don't drop the ball…."

"The government's assumption had long been that women and their careers were the root cause of declining birth rates," Mr. Mirimoto added. "Know why?"

"If women work, then they may postpone marriage and childbearing, or forget it altogether." Daidai said.

"And even though the government lifted the ban on career-track jobs for women-" Shiori said. "Companies continue to pay women far less than their male counterparts…promote women less… and funnel mothers into underpaid part-time jobs. I mean… who wants to be treated like _that_ and raise children, too?" A lot of girls called out assent.

"Recently," Mr. Morimoto said. "The Japanese government began looking for ways to make motherhood more appealing to working women. They sent ministers to Scandinavia and France to bring home generous maternity… and paternity… leave policies, and a blueprint for government-subsidized day care. But, even that didn't seem to work. Even though the number of women in management in Japan has been inching up, the birth rate continues to drop. And here is the key. Especially for you boys." He glanced at each and every boy in the room. "To the extent that women found motherhood unappealing, it wasn't because of their jobs so much as the lack of involvement of their male partners. The government has been focusing on the wrong gender."

"That's what my mom always says," Rumiko relayed. "Right before my father decides to leave the house and go drinking, rather than hear the truth."

"Men… fathers…." Mari said. "My mother says they need to do more housework and childcare. My father agrees."

"**Good for him!"** Mr. Morimoto said.

"Could you see Sagara raising children," one boy quipped. He was already on toilet duty, what else did he have to fear? And, the more boys who spoke out of turn, the smaller his share would be, especially since he wasn't beyond bullying the others. Maybe, if he could prompt some 'class participation', he'd garner more toilet buddies. "'I have raised the children well,' he'd say to his wife. She'd look outside the window and see them dangling from a crane."

"'I have saved up money again, dear'" A girl joined in. "'It's economical. I am washing the children and their clothes at the same time.' Looking in the washing machine, she'd see the kids going round and round fully clothed."

"'We will never run out of ground beef, my love'," a boy said. "I placed mines in the cattle yards next door'." He smiled. "And, we no longer need to spend time cutting up fruit." He pantomimed cocking a shotgun, making the accompanying mouth noises. Who didn't remember the blind-folded game at the beach?

"Grenades looking like Easter Eggs," one girl said, seeing the holiday posters on the wall, and noting other signs of the holidays.

"The Tooth Fairy brings flash bangs!" A boy said.

"Stockings stuffed with MREs," a girl said. "A sentry laser on top of the Christmas tree. Getting more than their share of presents by setting booby traps for Santa."

"I'm certain young people must find that very funny," Mr. Morimoto said. "Although old, I still have a sense of humor. The first one who spoke up will be gratified to find out that toilet duty can be assigned by weeks, not just days." That had a number of students making a motion across their lips, as if they were zippering them shut. The one boy looked as if he felt a big black cloud was hovering over him. "You reap what you… sew…" He made as if he were threading a needle he held in hand. That had the class groaning. The correct word was 'sow' for that famous phrase. "Japanese men spend about an hour a week on childcare and household duties, while women spend thirty to forty hours a week, numbers that had not shifted even as the country had become more dependent on women's labor outside the home. But that story wasn't as simple as just 'those lazy men who don't want to help out around the house,' either. When the Ministry of Labor surveyed working fathers, they found that a third of them wanted to spend more time with their kids and wanted to take paternity leave, but felt that it would be frowned upon by their bosses. For the older generation, spending time with children was just not something men did."

"So this class is supposed to help us get used to the idea," a boy said. "And to make us advocates for change?"

"**Exactly,"** Mr. Morimoto said. "For you guys or gals… if you are a salaryman… or if you are fortunate to the big boss who makes policy… it's good to get to know the way the wind is blowing, seeing that we are on the verge of a sea change. This class is about teaching what you need to do _in _the home… and teaching you about the things that are necessary _outside_ of the home."

Sousuke stood there thinking. How did any of this apply to _him?_ He was already independent, and had been self-sufficient since a very young age. Food had been as simple as opening an MRE… standing in line at the mess facility… setting a trap for some wandering wildlife… or walking into a store and buying fresh rolls, unless the day old rolls were on sale. Would he ever be married? Would he ever spend time working in the land of his birth? Well, information was ammunition of a sorts. It would not hurt him to learn things.

"The Japanese government began piloting the Ikumen Project," Mr. Morimoto noted. "That is aimed at drafting policies that would make workplaces more father-friendly and funding various cultural projects that would encourage dads throughout Japan to get more involved with their children. Maybe you've seen some of the results. Signs in subways and on crowded streets: an American-inspired, movie-poster-style billboard of an actor dressed in a Superman costume, standing proudly with the word "Ikumen" emblazoned on his chest. Men have been seen actually engaging in fatherhood on TV, and in films and magazines, too. The popular manga-turned-movie _Usagi Drop_ centers on office worker Daikichi Kawachi, who becomes an Ikumen when he adopts his grandfather's six-year-old illegitimate daughter."

"**I watch that!"** Mari said.

"_Me too,"_ Shinji blurted out, before blushing. He felt his face grow even warmer when Mari smiled at him.

"Japanese markets show a lot more baby and kid products geared toward dads," Ono-D grumped. Those types of products had begun displacing the things he wanted, like anime-themed backpacks and imported sweets. "Bubble bath targeted at dads…dad-friendly baby carriers and strollers…. entire magazine devoted to cool dads…" Those had pushed aside some of his favorite porno mags. "Everything marketed with lines like 'This product was suited to papas' and 'Even papas can use this!'"

"My father is a member of group of other stay-at-home dads called Secret Society, Friends of House Husbands." Mizuki made a face. Her mother worked and her father stayed home. He packed her lunch. Her mother was a far better cook. "They consider themselves a step above that Ikumen thing. He's always bragging that Ikumen is a part-time employee, whereas the househusband is a full-time employee who takes on a dedicated role."

"He's right, in a way." Mr. Morimoto said. "But, words are important. The way things are sold can make a lasting impression. Feminists don't like the way that fathers are being built up, even though the gender gap hasn't changed all that much yet. There is a huge disconnect between the number of men wanting to take advantage of family-friendly policies and those actually taking advantage. Like I said, many bosses think the new policies are really strange. Men therefore worry that if they take paternity leave or they leave work early, they'll be penalized in some way."

"And… well…." Mikzuki hesitated. She felt like she would be airing dirty laundry. Then again, what class would be better to do _that_ in than HomeEc. "My mom sometimes makes comments about my dad being a stay at home guy."

"That's the final point, and the one that ties in with the article title," Mr. Morimoto noted. "There is more to read there, but I will finish on this. "In the past, when I asked my female students about that type of stay at home man, they would all wrinkle their noses and say, you know, 'I don't know about those guys, they're not very masculine'." He asked the girls for a show of hands, seeing if _they _would like a 'vegetable eating man,' a term coined for stay at home men, as opposed to 'carnivore women', ladies who had careers. "I see. Like the past few years, about half of you are actually looking for a vegetable-eating man. Things are on the rise. I hope you young men and women do your share to define a better future. Okay. Enough blathering from this middle-aged single man. Everyone to your work-stations."

As everyone began setting up those work-stations, some continued chatting about the day's events. "Did you see outside the school, down by the street? There were so many ambulances and police vans. And, even a few JSDF vehicles." One girl noted.

"No," another girl said. "But there were a lot of flashing lights out back, near the area we were running earlier.

Not all girls were interested in chatting. One girl had a different goal in mind. Even more angered now by the very existence of Kaname Chidori, Satomi took a bottle of dark red cooking wine one off of a shelf when the teacher was looking elsewhere. After removing the cork, she took a turkey baster and drew wine all the way up into the bulb. Walking to conceal herself behind two taller talking girls, she squeezed hard, aiming at Kaname.

"_Blurrr-rr-rg_ hack hack!" One boy took the first bit of wine right in the kisser, before the liquid travelled downward at an angle, leaving a broad and slanted burgundy band on his uniform shirt. He looked around; but, he had no clue as to what had just happened.

"Before the specifics, let's speak in generalities." Mr. Morimoto picked up a large black case and unzipped it. The contents were gleaming. It was his personal knives. "What is the first step in great food?"

"Well… you know…." One boy looked as if the answer was so obvious that the question was addlepated. "Good meat… good vegetables… good _stuff_…."

"**No!"** The teacher said. "The first step to great food is great _knife skills_. And, learning how to cut properly can make the difference between seeing kitchen work as a chore and a joy. It can mean the difference between unevenly cooked dishes and poor flavor development, and excellence. There's a good reason why the very first class any culinary student takes and the very first job any starting cook has in the kitchen is knife work. Cooking without mastering these basic strokes is like trying to run without knowing how to tie your shoes. These are the four strokes everybody should know."

"The breast stroke… the doggy paddle… the Australian crawl… the butterfly…." Some people were very slow learners, or had the attention span of a sieve. This time it was a girl with a poodle haircut.

After handing out another latrine opportunity, Mr. Morimoto said "Here's what we're gonna cover: The Slice…The Chop… The Back-Slice… and The Rock-Chop."

Sousuke stood stiff and straight, almost tossing off a salute. Knife skills? Knife skills! His focus was razor sharp.

"Slicing and the rock chop are used mostly with Western-style curved blades-" The teacher started. "-while chopping and back-slicing are more common for straighter santoku-style knives. So, it is good to have an arsenal, not a single knife."

"**Affirmative!"** Sousuke hung his head, saying that too loud.

"I will demonstrate these quickly," Mr. Morimoto said. "You may borrow one of the class DVDs if you want to see a similar demonstration. For those of you who are total beginners in the kitchen, you should at least take a quick look at the portion of the disc that talks about how to properly hold a knife." He went on to demonstrate the maneuvers, explaining why things were done the way they were, and when each type of movement was most useful.

"Todays topics include Chicken and White Rolls," the teacher repeated. That latter mention had Sousuke feeling better still. "And also… because of Japan's adoption of some aspects of Western holidays… and because our school has a connection with cancer centers thanks to Miss Chidori…." He didn't notice Satomi growing red in the face. "…. Everyone in the school will be decorating Easter eggs, and putting together Easter baskets for the afflicted children. Any extras will go to Tokyo orphans. So, today we will learn about boiling eggs… and we will start the long process of cooking the large number of eggs we need."

"Will we get to eat what we cook?" Sousuke had to ask. He had done so before in this class, in his own body, and been answered in the affirmative. But, he had to be certain.

"Yes you may," the teacher said. "And… not just your own. If anyone has a good recipe, we will try it out, and _all_ of you can have a taste." He took large trays of meat out of the classroom refrigerator and placed them on the long central table. He looked towards the door, cocking his head. _"Listen!"_

"What is _that?"_ A girl heard the faintest of sounds, one which was growing steadily louder by the moment. "I think I know what it must be. That's why we had to stay out of the hallway!"

"-" Sousue tensed up. It must be the yakusa. He hoped the robot would be sufficient. If not, he was in the one room where Mithril could _not_ put a moratorium on weapons. He would have no difficulty finding knives of many sorts, all of them well-sharpened. Knives, mallets, skewers, and much more.

"It's them! It's them!" Another girl seemed excited. "It's the school band!"

Indeed, the school band was making its way through the school, so that every student would have a chance to hear their great sound and be thankful for their long and arduous practice routine, which took up most of the year. The band was going to join the mascots in the telethon, before boarding busses reserved for them. TheAll-Japan Band Competition is a symphonic contest for amateur brass bands arranged since 1940. The All-Japan Marching Contest is an indoor stage marching show for amateur marching bands first held in 1988. The Jindai squad was actually thought to be able to put up a challenge for perennial powerhouse the Kyoto Tachibana Senior High School Band this year.

"The Yellow Devils," Shiori said. The band nickname came from uniform color and their penchant from winning regional contests. "Full of Energy, Smiles and Dreams." That was the band's main motto.

"Hit Like Sunshine," another girl said. That was this year's secondary motto. Just as she said that, the frosted door window lit up remarkably bright. "What-"

"Don't forget those wonderful red sashes," Rumiko said. "Those look so sharp against the yellow.

"Red-" Sousuke blinked rapidly.

"They're like something out of the movies," a boy said. They're real bad-asses. Three band showdowns in the past month. They were the only ones left standing.

"It helps that Sanja's family is supporting them with great deals on the instruments they make," another girl said. "Nobody else has that kind of firepower. Those instruments are in world demand."

"Uhhh. That kind of firepower-" Sousuke had a bad feeling, as he should.

"The music the band plays is almost entirely Western, starting from gospel and big band era classics-" Tomomi said, clapping her hands. She loved the band. "Often ending with evergreen pop songs and recent chart hits with heavy dose of Disney tunes interspersed. The music is chosen bearing in mind the expected preferences of the audience and how easy it is to adapt to the band dancing style. The regular parade program is about fifteen minutes long, and if needed it can be rolled over longer

"They've adopted parts of the Kyoto Tachibana Band's trademark style, much the way that the Izumo Business High School Wind Orchestra and Ōnishi Gakuen Junior and Senior High School Brass Band have, but adding their own special flare."

The instruments were beautiful to hear. Everyone wished that they could open the door and see out. But, only a few of the students would get a glimpse if that was done. And, policy held that doors should remain shut.

"Their trademark song of the band which is practically always performed is "Sing Sing Sing" made famous by Benny Goodman in 1937." Tomomi continued. "But there are others that are frequently performed. Yes. That is one of them." She recognized the new rhythm, and startled everyone by bursting out in song. It was 'Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee' from the movie 'Pinocchio':

_Hi-diddle-dee-dee  
An actor's life for me  
A high silk hat and a silver cane  
A watch of gold with a diamond chain_

_Hi-diddle-dee  
An actor's life for me  
It's great to be a celebrity  
An actor's life for me_

_Hi-diddle-dee-dum  
An actor's life is fun_

_Hi-diddle-dee-dee  
An actor's life for me  
Hi-diddle-dee-dee  
An actor's life for me_

_A wax mustache and a beaver coat  
A pony cart and a billy goat._

She stopped singing, because the band began missing notes, and sudden shouting could be heard from the eastern end of the hallway, from whence the band was approaching. There were also loud vocalizations coming from the west.

"What the hell is that thing, a science project?" "It's not slowing down." "Move out of the way" "Hurry" "Run for your life." "There's no time. Leave the tuba players behind." "Move, damn it!" "We don't have to be faster than that thing, just faster than the fat kids!"

There were more sour notes, and many missing notes. But, staunch members of the band kept playing in retreat. They had switched over to the 'Jaws' theme.

"**HALT! YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS TARGETS! I HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED TO USE FORCE. PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE YOU ARE BEING PROCESSED. THE AUTHORITIES WILL BE NOTIFIED."**

"Red sashes," Sousuke repeated.

"That reminds me of Box," Kyouko said. "From Logan's Run." She was referring to the insane cyborg who had been tasked with gathering food for the city, but who had been freezing Runners who passed into its domain. She imitated the shiny part-machine: "Welcome humans. I am ready for you. Fish, plankton, sea greens, protein from the sea. Fresh as harvest day. Overwhelming am I not?"

"Or that that thing from the good RoboCop movie," Ono-D remarked. "Please put down your weapon. You have twenty seconds to comply." He was doing an imitation of the Enforcement Droid, Series 209, or ED-209, a fully-automated peacekeeping machines created by Omni Consumer Products for military purposes and use in urban pacification.

"It _is _a problem," Sousuke whispered. He considered running back to the club room to hit the shut down button; but, the robotic creation was out of range of the signal. It would return to base on its own if it ran lower on power… it had enough for a good while… or if it ran into serious damage or a glitch… that was possible, it was a prototype and untested… or also if it ran out of the capture bands.

The frosted door panel lit up again. The door shook, and students grimaced, feeling pressure in their ears but not making out a sound, other than that of large instruments hitting the ground. That, followed now by shrieks, screams, and loud whimpering pleas for help.

"No… No… _Noooo-ooo-oo-o_… _**Noooooooo-ooooooo-oooooo-ooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o**_….."

"Mommy! Pa-Paaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-a… No… please don't…."

_Bwlll Bwlll Bwlll Bwlll._ The door shuddered again and again. _Zappp Zappp Zappp_. Shrieks had turned into barely audible groans and hiccups. _Srrrappp Srrrappp Srrrappp Srrrappp_. Some noises had the Home Ec student's minds conjuring up varios imaginary happenstances.

"**HALT! YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS TARGETS! I HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED TO USE FORCE. PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE YOU ARE BEING PROCESSED. THE AUTHORITIES WILL BE NOTIFIED."**

Whoooo-oooo-oooo-oooo-oooo-oooo-oooo-oooosh. That was followed by something that sounded like an electric blower used for yard work.

"Cough" "Cough cough cough," "Coughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcough!"

"Hurry!" One boy ran to the door, intent on opening it. "It sounds like people need help."

"STOP!" Mr. Moroimoto shouted. He pointed at the space under the door. A small amount of a thick gas had seeped underneath. "HAND OFF OF THE KNOB!"

"This way… hurry!" "What happened to them? Are they breathing?" My lord, that tuba is flatter than a pancake!" "They're breathing." "It's okay… we're here to help." "Damn. What the hell are these. We're going to need chain-cutters to get these off. Or, some kind of grease or Vaseline to help slide them off." Those voices were adult.

"It sounds like things are under control," the teacher said, dabbing at his forehead with a towlette. That had been brief, but very intense. "I will continue with today's instruction. There will be time for… current events… later." That euphemism didn't look to relieve student anxieties. "Take note. You will be graded on this tuition." That had _eveyone _snapping back to attention, the incident stored safely in the back of their minds. "**This** is the safety you need to be truly concerned about." He pointed at the food trays and the whole prepared chickens sitting on them. There was also a large chicken, unplucked, fully intact. "Salmonella is no joke! Do you hear me?"

"**Yes teacher!"** The class called out**. **Most of them knew that Salmonella can contaminate poultry and eggs, and could also sneak its way into many other foods. They knew that Salmonella is a bacteria that commonly causes foodborne illness, sometimes called 'food poisoning.' The CDC in Atlanta, Georgia estimates that Salmonella causes many millions of foodborne illnesses every year across the world. During the past few years, outbreaks of Salmonella illness have been linked to contaminated cucumbers, chicken, eggs, pistachios, raw tuna, sprouts, and many other foods. Some people may have severe diarrhea and need to be hospitalized. Anyone can get a Salmonella infection, but some groups are more likely to develop a serious illness: older adults, children younger than five, and people with immune systems weakened from medical conditions, such as diabetes, liver or kidney disease, and cancer or their treatment

"Four words will keep you and your dinner guests safe," Mr. Morimoto claimed. "Four simple words, I hope you will never forget: Clean, Separate, Cook and Chill. Those words can serve as reminders to always handle and cook food safely to reduce the risk of illness to you and your family and friends. First, 'clean'. Wash hands, kitchen work surfaces, cutting boards and utensils thoroughly with soap and hot water immediately after they have been in contact with raw meat or poultry, including frozen and fresh products. Hands should be washed before handling food and between handling different food items. Wash cutting boards between preparing different cuts of raw meat or poultry. Got that?"

"**Yes teacher!"** The students were oblivious to the sounds of more people running in the hallway. They had no idea that the school nurse was directing strong male teachers with stretchers.

"'Separate'," the teacher said. "Avoid cross-contaminating other foods. Separate raw meat, poultry, seafood and eggs from other foods in your grocery shopping cart, grocery bags, your kitchen and in your refrigerator. Use one cutting board for fresh produce and a separate one for raw meat, poultry and seafood. Do not rinse raw poultry in your sink… that will _**not **_remove bacteria. In fact, it can spread raw juices around your sink, onto your countertops or onto ready-to-eat foods. Bacteria in raw meat and poultry can _**only**_ be killed when cooked to a safe internal temperature. Don't forget that!"

"**Yes teacher!"** Many of the students were left questioning their parent's cooking habits. Todays lesson would provide important facts to bring home. When asked what the next word was, the most attentive students called out 'Cook.'

"_Right!"_ Mr. Morimoto said. "Cook poultry thoroughly. Poultry products, including ground poultry, should always be cooked to at least 165 degrees Fahrenheit internal temperature as measured with a food thermometer; leftovers should be refrigerated no more than two hours after cooking. The color of cooked poultry is_** not **_a sure sign of its safety. Only by using a food thermometer can one accurately determine that poultry has reached te safe minimum internal temperature throughout the product. Be particularly careful with foods prepared for infants, older adults and persons with impaired immune systems. And, take this advice with you wherever you go. If served undercooked poultry in a restaurant, send it back to the kitchen for further cooking. Will you do that?"

"**Yes teacher!"** Some of the students imagined what bootcamp must be like. But, this was important too. Learning to cook properly can save lives.

"That leaves 'chill'," the teacher remarked. "And that should apply to your demeanor while cooking, too!" He smiled at his clever words. "Make poultry products the last items you select at the store. Once home, the products must be refrigerated or frozen promptly. After cooking, refrigerate any uneaten poultry within two hours. Leftovers will remain safe to eat for two to three days. Refrigerators should be set to maintain a temperature of 40 degrees Fahrenheit or below. Thaw frozen poultry in the refrigerator… _**not **_on the countertop… or in cold water. When barbecuing poultry outdoors, keep refrigerated until ready to cook. Do _**not**_ place cooked poultry on the same plate used to transport raw chicken to the grill. Always marinate poultry in the refrigerator, up to two days. Marinade in which raw poultry has been soaking should _**never**_ be used on cooked poultry, unless it is boiled first. Repeat that!"

"**Teacher, never use chicken marinade to cook with,"** the girls said.

"_Teacher, unless it's boiled first,"_ the boys said in unison.

"Great!" Mr. Morimoto said. "Teacher is proud!"

Sousuke found that he was standing at attention. The teacher was a professional. He was a top level specialist.

"_Gentlemen!"_ The teacher held his arms behind his back. "If there's one knife skill that can save you money and make you look cool, it's breaking down a chicken." He clicked his heels together. _"Ladies! _For about the same price as a pack of two breasts, you can buy a whole chicken, which comes with those same breasts, two legs, and a back. And if you're really lucky, you'll get a free liver, heart, and gizzard thrown in to sweeten the deal! Of course, if you don't know how to break the chicken down, all of this is not too useful. That's why I will show you how to butcher a chicken into four or eight pieces. Follow the instructions, and you'll be breaking down birds like the pros."

"**Sir! Yes, sir!"** Sousuke felt his face grow warm. Everyone was staring at him. The longest and most hateful stare belonged to Satomi.

"I have two tips for you!" Mr. Morimoto said. "Buy air-chilled chickens. Air-chilled chickens are chilled with cold air after slaughter rather than being dumped into an ice bath, which is what mass-market brands do. This means they come to the market with less retained water. Not only does this give you a better value, but it also creates more concentrated flavor. Also, avoid kosher birds. Kosher birds have been heavily salted before packaging in order to remove excess liquid. While in some cases, this is desirable… such as when you are roasting it…in other cases, the excess salt can ruin a recipe. A braised chicken where the braising liquid is subsequently reduced can get far too salty from the excess salt within the chicken. It also limits your stock-making ability, since a salty stock cannot be reduced. You're better off buying a regular bird and salting or brining it yourself if the recipe calls for it. And, I will add that I personally prefer to pay extra for premium brands of free range or specialty heirloom breeds because of the improved flavor they offer. There's not much worse than bad chicken. Maybe bad margaritas, but that's about it." The teacher was no tea-totaller after school.

Some of the boys gave the teacher a thumbs up; but, they were ignored. Mr. Morimoto said "To break down a chicken, you'll need a chicken, a sharp knife… a chef's knife, Western-style boning knife, or a Japanese-style honesuki poultry boning knife will all work… and either a set of poultry shears or a cleaver. Extra coolness points if you've got a cleaver!" He smiled, gold teeth flashing again. "Other than spatchcocking… which isn't _really_ a butchering project… but rather splitting, then flattening a chicken… what I am going to show you is the simplest way to process a bird. Using this method, you will end up with four pieces of chicken for eating as is…. two bone-in breast quarters with wings attached and two bone-in leg quarters… and three pieces of chicken for making stock: two wing tips and the back. After I teach you that method, I will show you how to further break things down into eight pieces." He methodically went through all of the steps, and then assigned individual whole chickens to groups of students.

"**Alright!"** The teacher spoke in a deep voice. "Show teacher what you remember. _Safely!"_

"May I?" Sousuke asked his group members if he could have first crack. They all agreed, not knowing that they would have nothing left to practice on. "Then, I shall commence." He spun the chef's knife around one finger, then around his whole hand. He tossed the knife up and caught it by the point on the back of his hand, without drawing even a single drop of blood. He then launched into work at a speed that was hard to follow. "Start by trimming the wing tips. Working with one wing at a time, cut the joint right at the wing tip; set aside the tips for making stock." Everyone stopped their own preparation, drawn to the spectacle. "Next, remove the wishbone, which is located at the neck opening… this is the same for other birds, like turkey or quail. Using the tip of your knife, make a cut along each arm of the wishbone to detach it from the breast meat. Work your fingers behind the wishbone, separating it from any flesh that's still attached. Slide your fingers up toward the apex of the wishbone until you can hook your finger behind the part where the two arms join. Pull it out, and free the wishbone fully from the flesh; set it aside for stock."

"_My God,"_ one boy said, entranced.

"She's like a machine," a girl added.

"Grab the chicken by the drumstick, and pull the leg outward from the body until the skin is stretched taught." Sousuke was critical of his own skills. Why was he so slow today? Oh. Right. This was Kaname's body, not his own. "Start the operation by cutting through the skin between the leg and the body. Don't cut too deep…just through the skin. Grab the leg in one hand and twist it downward, away from the body, until the ball joint pops out of the socket. This shouldn't require much force." He had picked up speed in his movements and his speech. He was flawless with both.

"How can she _**do **_that!" Mr. Morimoto said to no one in particular, his jaw falling slack.

"Maybe she's a cyborg," one boy said. It was hard to tell that he was joking.

"**No!"** Ono-D said with a big grin. "A _fembot!"_ He like Austin Powers movies. "You know… with gun barrels coming out of her juglies." That earned him a kick in the shin from Mari.

"Maybe an operative!" That was Shinji "You know. A secret agent or a ninja!" The wholeclass shouted him down. What did he think, Kaname Chidori was, some kind of mercenary soldier?

"I think it's probably because she lived in America," Mizuki said. "There's a lot of wackos living there, right?"

"And moving _here_ from there," Satomi said, turning her nose up. "Probably kicked out by their fathers, who keep their other daughters with them."

"**Hey!"** One boy waved his arm above his head. "_I _know what it is!" He chuckled before sharing his joke. "I bet it's bridal training. So she can marry Sagara!"

Sousuke only floundered for a millisecond. No one could tell. The thought of marriage… and marriage to Kaname… caught him off guard. Strangely enough, his mind wanted to follow that thought further. But, he was locked in. No deviation from mission was acceptable.

"The Master of Disaster and the Queen of the Canteen!" Rumiko quipped.

"No chicken in the world stands a chance!" One boy said, when Sousuke was finally done. "Even live ones!"

"Like anyone has something to worry about chickens!" Ono-D said.

"Well…." The boy wasn't going to be made to feel the fool. "An ostrich. Even a cassowary!"

"Hah!" Satomi said, finding a way to make Kaname Chidori seem human. "What if you didn't have a knife?!"

"It is _not_ a problem!" Sousuke walked over to the intact chicken, picked it up, and wrapped his hands around its neck. "I would strangle it or break its neck." He made strong forceful motions, demonstrating his words. "I would jump on back of the ostrich first. The cassowary is a bigger problem, though a smaller bird. Along with ostriches, they are the birds known to kill humans. As long as I can avoid being cut open by the claws, I would hold it away from my face and do what I can."

"**Wow!"** One boy looked like he had stars in his eyes. "How about a velociraptor?" He remembered the scene where a boy made the mistake of saying **'**That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey,' prompting Dr. Grant to say: 'A turkey, huh? OK, try to imagine yourself in the Cretaceous Period. You get your first look at this 'six foot turkey' as you enter a clearing. He moves like a bird, lightly, bobbing his head. And you keep still because you think that maybe his visual acuity is based on movement like T-Rex - he'll lose you if you don't move. But no, not Velociraptor. You stare at him, and he just stares right back. And that's when the attack comes. Not from the front, but from the side… from the other two raptors you didn't even know were there. Because Velociraptor's a pack hunter, you see, he uses coordinated attack patterns and he is out in force today. And he slashes at you with this... a six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe. He doesn't bother to bite your jugular like a lion, say... no no. He slashes at you here, or here...or maybe across the belly, spilling your intestines. The point is, you are alive when they start to eat you. So… you know… try to show a little respect.'

"_Moron!"_ One girl said, stamping her foot. "Let's keep things re-a-listic." That had a lot of students looking at one another.

"Miss Chidori," Mr. Morimoto said. "Since your chicken is prepared… while the others are breaking down their birds… do you have a recipe you and your group can use to cook the meat? If not," he motioned towards a plastic box that held laminated recipe sheets. "You may choose something from in there."

"I have two, actually." Sousuke replied. "In Ukraine, a lot of families cook and serve ducks during New Year and Christmas holidays with great pleasure. We can modernize the classic recipe for a duck by adding apples and new ingredients... and we can switch out the duck for chicken." He spoke as Ruslan had spoken on the helicopter. "A hint of sweetness goes well with poultry meat, and the apple stuffing and soy-honey glaze we will use today perfectly accentuate the rich taste of a duck and help its skin to caramelize and crisp up. The meat remains moist and tender inside, glorious brown outside, and very flavorful all over. Combine ginger powder and cinnamon in a bowl. Then add salt, honey, and soy sauce. Squeeze the juice from a lemon. At the end stir in olive oil …it will help to dissolve spices. The combination of these ingredients enables the meat to fully marinate and become succulent and flavorful. Wash the duck under running water and remove any missed feathers. Then remove giblets from duck cavity and…." He continued through that recipe, and then switched over to the one given to him by Commander Kalinin. "Next is Chicken Plov. Plov is originally an Uzbek dish, but every Ukrainian makes and loves plov and this is more the Ukrainian version. Traditional plov is made with lamb pork or beef. This is a speedy version that uses chicken." He finished that up quick, fast, and in a hurry."

"**Holy shit!"** One boy said.

"_She's so amazing,"_ a girl said, breathless. "Is there nothing she can't do?"

"It seems she can't jump off of a bridge," Satomi said. "And do all of us a favor!"

"Well, those recipes seem delightful," the teacher said. "We have all of those ingredients in the refrigerator, the freezer, or the pantry. You and your group may get started. Make enough food to feed the entire class, please. I'm certain it will be a memorable experience for all." He gave Satomi a look, but she glared back defiant.

After everyone had broken down their chickens, and Sousuke's group was well into their preparation and cooking, Mr. Morimoto had the students put their cut up chicken into the refrigerator, and moved onto the next topic. Rolls.

"**Teacher!"** Sousuke came sliding to a stop. "Rolls are my favorite! The other students are following the recipe. May _I _receive teaching, too."

"Rolls are my favorite," Satomi mouthed. The veins at her forehead were bulging.

"Of course," the teacher replied. Such enthusiasm should never be deflected or deflated. "It would be an honor." He cleared his throat. "What-"

A large packet of flour came down on a high sweeping arc, followed by two more. They exploded against a pillar, a table edge, and the floor, raising huge white clouds and covering a number of students to various degrees. One boy looked like he was an albino. Two girls were covered head to toe, looking as if they wore white school uniforms, or military gear for snow troops. Having sensed the danger and moving clear with a dancer's grace, Sousuke brushed a few grains of flow off of his otherwise resplendent skirt.

"**Who did that!"** The teacher was furious. But, glancing at the clock, he knew he had to stay the course and keep to task. "The women that went before us all baked the most amazing bread at home in primitive ovens. They didn't have temperature-controlled ovens. They didn't have standardized yeast. Yet their bread was a staple part of the daily diet. While it's true that some of these ladies never got the hang of light loaves with crispy crusts, others became locally famous for their baking. If you had the privilege of helping your grandma or a neighbor in the kitchen on baking day, you probably caught some of these bread baking tips."

When asked, no one in the room could say that they had any such experiences.

"A shame," Mr. Morimoto sighed. "Here is the next best thing. I offer my own bread baking tips, won by both observing the grandmothers and by not-a-few failed loaves in my own initial attempts." He paused a moment. 'Kaname' was frantically looking for a pad and a pen. Sousuke considered writing in blood, if need be. "Start with fresh, organic ingredients. Use high protein wheat or add gluten. Rise it at 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Proof your yeast. Consider optional dough conditioners. Half the yeast and double the rising time. Use less flour than you think you need. Knead with wet hands. Don't forget the salt. Use a baking stone. Slash the tops of the loaves. Create steam in your oven during baking. Create the crust texture that you want. Use a long preheat. Don't rush bread baking. Bread baking is an art that you learn by experience. Bake lots of bread and learn the feel of the dough and the behavior of the yeast. If you have a failure, know that we _**all**_ do. Failures can be made into crumbs to add to meatloaf or hamburgers, or to make croutons or bread pudding. Homemade bread is worth the effort to learn to do well. It is healthier and tastes better than store bought."

Sousuke was trembling. It was as if he had listened to the Sermon on the Mount, or had been taught war tactics by Sun Tzu himself. It was better than getting two A.S. kills with one shot!

"That's actually interesting," a girl said. "It's amazing how much we can learn when we're not distracted or injured by Sagara and his antics!"

"**Right!"** Ono-D laughed. "If _he_ was here, he'd probably find some way to describe bread as a weapon. Like that could ever happen. I will smash your head with this stiff loaf of bread!" He laughed.

"He'd probably hide a rock inside," another girl claimed. "Or a bomb!"

"I wonder if bread was ever used as a weapon," Shinji said with a sigh. He could imagine hard and stale loaves of bread shot from a cannon or a mortar. Or poisoned, and then fed to enemy troops.

"It _was,"_ Sousuke tossed off blithely, catching his mistake quickly. "Or so that… melancholy military maniac… told me once. I don't know why I even remember it." He _should _stop there. But, he couldn't help himself. The thought of fresh white rolls had pushed him too far. There was no coming back. "Let me see. Sousuke liked the movie 'El Cid'. In the novelization, the hero lays siege to Valencia… held by Al Kadir… somewhere between 1093 and 1094A.D. To quote the work, Al Kadir awoke slowly as was his habit. The pangs of hunger already ate away at his swollen belly. He heard a confused noise outside the palace; probably the damned machinery of the infidel was hurling stones already, for he could hear between the babbling cries of the people the short thunks of missiles striking tiles and earth. He could see only people moving at staggering runs through the dark streets below. One of them waved something. It looked like a big loaf of bread, but could not be. 'What is it? What is it' he shouted, rushing across the broad wall to them. 'The infidels are bombarding the city,' said one, saluting without straightening up. 'With food'. Food shortages began to be felt in the city. No relief force appeared. About the end of May, Ibn Jahhaf opened negotiations. Terms of surrender were agreed. Rodrigo Díaz had made himself the master of Valencia with a bombardment of bread."

Thank you _**so**_ very much, Miss Know-it-all!" Satomi bit off ascerbically. "But this is baking class. We don't need to have anything to do with weapons here." That statement was beyond ironic, as the class would soon learn.

"I can't keep running like this!" A tall boy carrying a trombone ran past, outside of the Home Ec room windows.

"You'd _better,"_ a girl said, her piccolo held firmly in her grasp. "Or you will end up like _them."_ No one in the class had any idea who or what 'them' had to with.

"Fuck _thissss-sss-ss-s!"_ A boy tossed aside his large uniform hat and threw his saxophone to the ground.

"Wait for _meeee-eee-ee-e!"_ A girl did the same, discarding a marching drum and her sticks. **"Shit!"** The drum strap caught one ankle and she fell.

"Look out!" Before one could count to five, three other band members tripped over the prone girl, or knocked each other over trying to avoid her. _"Ooph ooph ooph."_ People landed on the girl or stepped on her while they ran past. The reason for the rush became quite clear.

"**HALT! YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS TARGETS! I HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED TO USE FORCE. PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE YOU ARE BEING PROCESSED. THE AUTHORITIES WILL BE NOTIFIED."**

The source of that repeated warning rolled into view. It was Sousuke's robotic sentinel, of course. As the shocked and stunned class watched, the machine went about its business, firing its weapons and wrapping its targets with the elastic rubber capture bands.

"**Throw off your sashes!"** Sousuke called out. He had run to a window and opened it up.

"_Here!"_ Ono-D had opened a window completely. _"Hurry!_ I will pull you inside." Naturally he was being noble. The fact that he had the hots for the girl nearest the window had nothing to do with anything.

"**You can do it! Run!"** The boy with the wine stain on his shirt called out, extending his arms outside. "Grab ahold!"

"**SCANNING! IDENTYFYING! RED SASH DETECTED!"** The robot's optical sensors were rudimentary at this stage of development. They misread the stain as a red sash. And, the boy's actions clearly made the boy seem like an accomplice to its targeted foes. **"INTERLOPER.** **CONSPIRARATOR. ACCESSORY. FACILITATOR. HALT!"** It turned quickly on its axis and charged the classroom.

"Wow! It's like a freaking Dalek," a boy shouted. He was a huge Dr. Who fan, and loved 'Dr. Who and the Daleks' in particular. He picked up a plunger he saw near a sink, and held it extended from one hand. "Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!" Peter Cushing would _not _have been impressed.

"No!" Another boy differed. "It's like a Cylon!" He placed a shiny silver-colored bowl over his head. He obviously meant the 1978 Cylons, the ones created by a reptilian race of the same name. "By your command!"

"Danger Will Robinson," a third boy said, his allegiance to 'Lost In Space' the television series obvious to any who actually knew what that show was. "Danger!" He waved his arms up and down the way that The Robot was wont to do.

"Wrong again!" A fourth boy said, caught up in the spectacle. He picked up a hand-powered mixed and held it in one hand, the shiny metal object looking like a robotic arm device. "We are the Borg. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile." Another 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' aficionado.

"**Boys!** They are _such _idiots!" One girl moved away from the windows, not towards them like the boys.

"Tell me something I _didn't_ know!" Another girl said, crouching down behind a thick room pillar.

"**Whoah!"** People turned away or shielded their eyes when the robot fired off its Dazzler again and again.

"Oh _no!"_ The strobe effect had one boy feeling very nauseous. "Got to hold it down!" He had thrown up all over himself in English class. He barfed again.

"**My ears!"** Another boy held his hands over his ears, grimacing in pain. His eyes went wide, as he felt the full effects of the sonic weapon. "My bladder. Please! Not again!" He couldn't help himself. He felt the warm flow of urine down his legs.

"I'm sorry that good-looking people like us made you throw up and feel bad about yourself," one boy said, quoting Hansel in Zoolander. He finally had a chance to show that he saw the movie, too. But, maybe that wasn't the best time.

"Give it a rest, jerk!" One girl snapped. "That was so… so… P.E. class. We're _done _with that!"

"Don't touch that!" Sousuke's shout saved one inquisitive boy, who had reached down to touch one of the taser bullets that had managed to make its way into the classroom. "Close the windows! _**Now!**_ You _can't _save anyone." He heard the robot's powerful fan switch on. He knew what would follow.

"**Gas!"** The boy with the wine-stained shirt called out, trying to close his window. One arm of the robot was now stuck in it, as it reached for his shirt and prepared to make an application attempt with a capture band. Things looked grim for him. The band couldn't work from that angle; but, the gas would fully envelope him in a few seconds.

"You may have pulled the Earth's mightiest heroes apart like cotton candy, Ultron-" Someone shouted. "-But you won't do that to _me!"_ It was the Vice Pricipal. "Have at you!" He swept the butterfly up and over the robot's head, causing the machine to retreat away from the school and take defensive measures. It spun rapidly, using momentum and one arm to toss aside the net.

"Boldly they rode and well-" a woman's voice called out. "-Into the jaws of Death." It was the Librarian. She was quoting 'The Charge of the Light Brigade.' The Charge of the Light Brigade was a failed military action involving the British light cavalry led by Lord Cardigan against Russian forces during the Battle of Balaclava on 25 October 1854 in the Crimean War. British commander Lord Raglan had intended to send the Light Brigade to prevent the Russians from removing captured guns from overrun Turkish positions, a task for which the light cavalry were well-suited. However, there was miscommunication in the chain of command, and the Light Brigade was instead sent on a frontal assault against a different artillery battery, one well-prepared with excellent fields of defensive fire. The Light Brigade reached the battery under withering direct fire and scattered some of the gunners, but they were forced to retreat immediately, and the assault ended with very high British casualties and no decisive gains. The events were the subject of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's narrative poem 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', published just six weeks after the event.

The Librarian charged at the robot, sasumata held like a cavalry lance, hoping to impale the furious foe, or at least be able to knock it over. She was far too light in weight, and it was far too heavy. She managed to leave a scratch, but that was all.

"**DEFENSE PROTOCOL ALPHA. INITIATE. FULL POWER!"** The robot began firing all operational weapons at the same time, venting gas through its lower body to form a smoke screen.

"_Now!_ While we have a chance!" There were heroes amongst the stricken band. Brave, but none too clever. "Push it over. Look for an 'off' switch." 'The Charge of the Jindai Marching Band' had no more success than 'The Charge of the Light Brigade.' Boys were temporarily blinded. Girls lost control of their bodily functions before being stunned into immobility. Gas stung eyes and prompted uncontrollable fits of coughing. Mechanical arms wrapped high tensile strength rubber around victims, like some king of mechanical spider wrapping up human flies.

A periscope extended above the thick gas cloud; the robot sighted more targets gaining distance. The electric motors fired up immediately, and its tracks kicked up huge clods of sod and dirt as they spun into action.

"**HALT! YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS TARGETS! I HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED TO USE FORCE. PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE YOU ARE BEING PROCESSED. THE AUTHORITIES WILL BE NOTIFIED."**

The whole class sighed with relief when the robot passed from view. None felt more relieved than the boy with the wine-stained shirt.

"You don't see _that_ every day,": Mr. Moroimoto said, still in somewhat of a daze. He slapped himself hard, and then moved to aid his students. He sent some to clean up, and some to the nurse's office. Then, with predicable pluck, he resumed class. The students followed suit without complaint. They were becoming veterans to situations like this.

_Flash flash flash flash flash flash flash._

Kyouko was very upset. Thinking of her own safety, she had jumped into a pile of fabrics and accessories. She had missed getting photographs of that entire once-in-a-lifetime scene! Now, she was taking pictures of the aftermath. She zoomed in on the VP and the Librarian, both laying in a crumpled heap, their bodies in compromising poses.

"**Kyouko!"** Maya called out. "Your _head!"_ She pointed.

"Huh?" Kyouko reached up with a hand. Pulling herself out of the pile of materials, she had managed to get a fabricated wig stuck atop her head. It was made out of long blue yarn.

"You look like Chidori," Satomi said sourly. "Stupid. A big show off and center of attention. Pathetic." Yes, she was still very sore. Literally and figuratively. Being used as a toliet brush holder only added to the long list of slights that she perceived.

"Did someone _say_ something?" Shiori said, having had her fill of the angry girl. That one certainly seemed to have a screw loose.

"I don't think so," Maya replied, looking right through Satomi. No, the other girl had a whole hardware store's worth of screws loose.

Satomi growled. The idiom 'the straw that broke the camel's back', alluding to the proverb 'it is the last straw that breaks the camel's back', describes the seemingly minor or routine action that causes an unpredictably large and sudden reaction, because of the cumulative effect of small actions. The same sentiment is also expressed by the phrase 'the last drop makes the cup run over.' The girl picked up a plastic pie server, holding it like a dagger.

After Mr. Morimoto described the recipe for white rolls, he set the students in action. They made the needed dough, spayed the necessary sheet trays, and formed their bready creations. They were placed into large ovens with glass on their doors. Sousuke stood watching, totally transfixed as his favorite food began raising and turning brown. It looked like his attention was totally focused on that endeavor.

"Kill Kaname!" Satomi moved the pie server up and down, as if she were Anthony Perkins character in Alfred Hitchcock's 'Psycho' and 'Kaname' was filling in for Janet Leigh. She didn't intend to kill her of course; but, this ought to shock the hell out of the other girl, put her off of her game, and knock her off of her throne. "Chop Chidori!" She chuckled. "Bluefin tuna? No! Blue-haired bitch!"

"You lack silent feet," Sousuke said sharply, moving in a manner most high school students wouldn't dream of. "You have insufficient discipline." He grabbed the utensil out of the stalker girl's hand with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. "You do not possess the proper knife skills." 'She' really did grin like an oni out of some legend. "Let me _show_ you." Grabbing a wrist, he squeezed hard, and pulled the shocked girl from behind 'him.' He began dragging her to the back of the room.

"-" Satomi wanted to cry out 'Help! Murder!' but couldn't get her voice to work. She saw other students following the two of them, and hoped that they would come to her rescue.

"**Someone **_**else**_** take out the buns!"** The way Sousuke said that sent chills down backs. No one wanted to hazard a guess what tragedy might happen if the bready bounty ended up over-baked. He stopped in front of one of the manakins. _"Knife!"_ It was as much of a demand as a command. He closed his palm around the handle of a chef's knife that Shinji placed in his hand. **"Now!** It is _my_ turn to teach useful knife skills."

"Teacher, shouldn't you-" One girl's concerned was brushed away like an errant gnat or bee. Mr. Morimoto loved everything to do with knives. If there was a chance he might learn something useful, he would take it. He trusted the Chidori girl to behave appropriately, and not do something rash or irreversible.

"Knife fighting is _**not**_ about fighting; it's about surviving and defending yourself against attack," Sousuke instructed. "If you want to learn to defend yourself with a knife, you need intelligence, balance, and precision. As we speak, _you_ have none of those."

"**Oh snap!"** One boy said.

"You should learn how to carry knives safely and legally, as well as how to defend yourself properly against potential attacks." Sousuke assumed his drill-instructor voice. "Learn the laws regarding carrying knives in your area. Choose an appropriate knife for self-defense. Generally, knife fighting and knife defense is performed with fixed blade knives, typically with blades five to seven inches long; but, it's important to size your defense knife to your hand and your fighting style. The techniques, however, will apply to almost any variety of knife, whether it be a fixed blade tactical knife, a foldable hunting knife, or other styles of knife." He explained how to size an appropriate weapon, and how to keep the knife clean and well-maintained. "Learn to hone and sharpen your knives yourself, to keep them in good working order. Folding knives need to be oiled regularly to keep the action as smooth as possible."

"Let me go!" Satomi exclaimed. "Let… _me_…_** go**_…."

"It would be wise to remain motionless," Sousuke suggested. "This knife is _very_ sharp. You have seen what it will do to chicken. Don't be a chicken." That remark had a double meaning. "This is very important. Get trained in self-defense. If you introduce a knife into an altercation and don't know how to defend yourself, it's more likely that you're going to end up the one getting stuck. If you don't know how to defend yourself, you should _**not **_carry a knife for defense purposes. Take a general personal self-defense class to learn to control your environment and stay calm in physical altercations. Knife and stick fighting courses are widely available in Tokyo, as they are in other metro areas. Check out what's available and get detailed one-on-one training to learn how to wield a knife properly and safely."

"**I will!"** One boy had already been sucked into the narrative.

"Generally, you should look on a knife as an everyday tool that can be used for self-defense, should someone provoke an altercation, and _**not**_ as a weapon that solely for fighting." Sousuke let go of the girl. She was too frightened to move. "You should only draw your knife if your opponent also brandishes a knife. Furthermore, draw your knife only if you intend to use it. To use a weapon for intimidation will likely put the opponent into a fight-or-flight type response, and the momentum can change quickly in their favor. Draw and take action, or choose another course. Intimidation attempts… even while potentially successful… give the opponent the opportunity to react and control the altercation. And, don't forget, in most places, brandishing or drawing your knife in a threatening manner is a crime, punishable by fines and possibly jail time."

"Y-Y-_You'll_ do jail time for this," Satomi whispered.

"**Here is a good hint!"** Sousuke reached down and picked up a magic marker off of a table next to one of the manakins, which was dressed in a vest made of paper. "Practice with markers. When you're first getting started learning about knife fighting, try a little experiment. Have someone much weaker than you act as a smaller sparring partner. Give them a permanent marker with the cap off. Take off your shirt and tell them to try to mark you as many times as possible while you try to stop them. Then count up the marker lines at the end. Now imagine that marker was a knife." He made marks on the vest in stabbing and slicing motions. "This is also an excellent way of practicing your knife fighting skills in perfect safety. _**Never **_attempt to practice knife fighting with a sharpened blade. Use markers or practice knives." In a swift motion, he shredded the vest. **"Understood?"**

Evereyone in the room with the exception of Satomi nodded his or her head.

"First," Sousuke said sharply. "Evaluate your attacker. If you're going to carry a knife, you have to be sure you don't introduce it into the fight. Knives should only be drawn if you fear for your life in a physical altercation, because your opponent has also drawn a knife, gun, or other weapon in a threatening manner. _**Always**_ use your knife first to attempt to avoid the altercation, and then to defend yourself if necessary. Don't draw knives on unarmed attackers. Learn to defend yourself without the use of a weapon, and avoid physical fights at all costs. If someone comes up to you in a threatening manner, look at their hands and at their pockets. If you see a weapon, _**then**_ draw your knife."

"_I will!"_ Shinji wasn't thinking. The likelihood that he would participate willingly in any kind of ruckus was less than zero. The chance that he would remain lucid if he was involuntarily preyed upon was less than that.

"Always… and I mean _**always**_…." Sousuke started. "Grip… your… knife… properly…. There are a variety of different grips used for self-defense knife fighting, depending on preference. Practice drawing and holding your knife in the most comfortable and secure ways of possible, given your fighting style, strength, and the weight of your blade. The most basic and the easiest way to learn is probably the forward hammer grip." He demonstrated. "Forward grips involve holding the knife by the grip, your fingers wrapped completely around, and the blade facing out from you, pointing straight up at the sky. Variations on this grip mostly depend on where you put your thumb to reinforce; but, the most basic is the hammer grip, in which you wrap your thumb around the grip, to secure the knife in your hand. Reverse grips are typically held in the exact same way, but with the blade pointing down toward the ground. It is possible to do a reverse grip with the blade edge pointing back at you; but, this is _**not **_recommended for beginners."

Other students in the room had picked up knives of various types and were following along. Mr. Morimoto felt proud having such a fine group of dedicated students.

As the frightened girl was unresponsive, Sousuke called out to another. "Kyouko, come here. You will serve as my student. Follow my instructions carefully." He handed her the pie server that he had appropriated earlier. "Okay. Keep your body behind your knife. It's of the utmost importance that you use your knife as a defensive tool, protecting your face, neck, and torso against an attacker, at all costs. Make your body as small as possible, by bringing your shoulders in and ducking your head, extending your knife-holding arm in front of you, flexed at a fourty-five degree angle. Don _**not **_extend your knife arm all the way, which will leave it vulnerable to attack. Use your other arm to guard your chest, neck, and stomach as you hide behind your knife. You don't want to offer your unarmed hand as some kind of shield or guard. Put your knife forward… _always.__"_

"**Yes, Kana-chan**!" The pig-tailed girl did as she was instructed. Other girls shadowed her movements.

"Move _constantly,_ Kyouko!" Sousuke commanded. "If and your opponent both draw knives, take a big step backward, but remain facing your opponent at _all _times, your knife between your body and your opponent. Imagine there was a magnet pointing your knife at your opponent's knife. In general, you can move one of four directions: forward, backward, and circling right or left. You should always be moving in some direction to protect yourself and make it more difficult to be struck. Never stand flat-footed. _Never."_

"_**Never!"**_ Kyouko said. Her word was echoed by all of the boys and most of the girls.

"Keep this in mind," Sousuke continued gruffly. "You can… and you _should_… use your knife as a distraction. Most attackers won't be interested in actually attacking you, especially if you just pulled a knife and you look like you know how to use. Nobody wants to actually get into a knife fight. If someone has pulled a knife on you and you've pulled a knife in return, that should hopefully be the end of it. Ideally, pulling your knife and distracting your opponent should be the end of the fight. Draw your knife and issue a warning, something like: 'This is a buck knife given to me by my tactical knife instructor, who works for Blackwater. I sharpen it every night. Trust me, you don't want to come anywhere closer. Let's just call it a night'. Let me put it like this. Mao… I mean someone once said… the only purpose of pulling a knife was to get someone to look at the knife as a distraction, before you end the fighting by kicking them between the balls."

"_Balls!"_ One girl shouted out, immediately blushing and covering her face afterwards.

"**Don't do that,"** Mr. Morimoto told the girl, carefully taking her butter knife out of her grip. "Remember. Kitchen safety… knife safety… at _all _times!" He scowled and puffed up, looking larger than normal. He saw glistening food material on the girl's hand. "Did you wash your hands after handling chicken?!" Even Sousuke paused in his narration, frozen by that voice.

"Sorry, teacher!" The girl ran for a sink, flinching when the teacher yelled "No running!"

"I will resume," Sousuke remarked. "Parry by dodging and controlling your opponent's striking arm. Knife-fighting doesn't much resemble sword fighting. You won't bang blades or do much parrying in a knife fight, but it's still important to deflect what could be a devastating blow by sidestepping blows, turning ninety degrees to the outside of your opponent's striking arm, then using your other hand to grip your opponent's elbow and attempt to disarm them." He demonstrated on a willing Kyouko. "It's always preferable to use your knife to strike or block at your opponent's arm, rather than attempting to grab at them. Take heed! If there's no other option, you do need to block with your other arm to protect your vital organs. A cut, even a severe one, on your arm is preferable to a stab wound in your solar plexus."

"**Fuck yeh!"** That was Shinji. He wasn't aware of how silly he sounded. He was beyond caring.

"There are some that will say_ never_ throw your knife," Sousuke said. "They will tell you that the absolute last thing you want to do in a one-on-one knife fight is lose your knife. Defending yourself against an attacker with a knife when you _don't_ have one is extremely difficult, as your marker exercise should suggest. Actually striking someone with a thrown knife is extremely unlikely for most people. Unless you make a perfect throw, you are merely giving your assailant another weapon while depriving yourself of possibly the only one you have." He held a very sharp and slender paring knife in his hand now. "It's a matter of experience. It's frightening to behold how accurately and how powerfully someone can sling a blade. You always want to hold the knife opposite of the heavy end, so the weighted side gets thrown first. So, for example, if you have a heavy handle knife, you would hold the blade…if you have a heavy blade knife, you would hold the handle." He followed his own advice. "Balanced blades can be thrown from either end and are the preferred knives amongst throwing professionals. Place your index, middle and ring fingers on one side of the end you are holding, and your thumb on the other. Hold the knife gently but firmly. There are many schools of thought on how to throw a knife. There are many different techniques, and none of them are right or wrong… they're just different. And one may work better for you than others will."

"**EEK!"** A girl shouted and pointed to one side of the room. A pair of rats had come running out behind a large shelving unit.

Without overtly looking in the direction of the rodents, 'Kaname' found 'her' throwing line. Sousuke smoothly took a step forward from where 'he' stood… kept the knife horizontal to the target… swung… gently released the knife… and followed through just like with a good golf swing or a baseball pitch.

_Zzzz-zz-zp!_

"**Squeak!"**

The knife plunged right through the rummaging rodent, ramming its way through its ribs.

"I… it… but…." Satomi sputtered like a car on its last legs. "Never… I…will… never ever again…." New change of plan. For the rest of her life. She would refrain from taking any form of retribution on Kaname Chidori. For the sake of her own life.

"Timing the release is the hardest part of throwing a knife. Knowing when to let go, and how to let go of the blade, so it spins correctly, flies the right way, and sinks where you want it to is a matter of trial and error." Sousuke said. "Practice is the only way to perfect this skill. I would suggest that the teacher allow us all to practice; however, in cooking as in warfare, one must take the best care of one's knives. Cooking knives are for cooking, not throwing. So, I suggest that you all practice this on your own time." He looked at the surviving rat, and felt as if his mission were incomplete. "And… again… look for better alternatives. Peace… or war…" He held out both hands perpendicular to his body. "He called out: "Thick rubber gloves-" Those were plentiful, as they were heat resistant. "-And soft cheese."

Students ran off to find those items, tussling with one another, like it was an honor to serve the Queen… or, it was a way to less likely end up being a target.

"They say that necessity is the mother of invention," Sousuke said after slipping on both gloves. They were red. He hoped that they wouldn't draw the ire of his robo-creation, if it returned this way. "Actually, survival is the mother of all inventions. Competition is the daughter of all inventions. War is the extreme end of survival and competition. Wartime innovations are focused on the goal of victory at any cost. Invention during wartime is faster because lives depend on it. Any time your life is on the line… consider _that_ a war." He took soft cheddar and completely surrounded a taser billet with it, after picking the projectile off of the kitchen floor. He rolled it along the floor, close enough to the rat to entice it, but not so close as to frighten it away.

"Ooo-oo-ooo…." Shinji correctly surmised the purpose of 'Kaname's' invention.

_Twitch twitch twitch twitch twith._ The rat's nose wriggled, sniffing the air. _Twitch twitch_ _twitch twitch_ _ twitch. _Its whiskers moved up and down, and back and forth. Then, with a quick biological decision, it rushed for the cheese.

_**ZAPPP-PP-P-!**_

The rat suddenly flashed with an actinic flare, white radiance spreading away from its contorted body, its bony structure showing white against a dark gray background. Smoke wafted upward from its nostrils.

"Teacher," Ono-D said to Mr. Morimoto. "Do you think its medium rare or well done?" He assumed a pose, by way of saying look how clever I am.

"_You_ tell _me_," the teacher said, throwing a meat thermometer to the wiseacre. That was his way of saying even if you live a hundred years, you will be too inexperienced to take me on.

"**Sensei!"** Ono-D bowed to the teacher.

*ding* An alarm on a baking oven sounded. *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* That sound repeated time and time again, as students turned well-sprayed baking sheets on their sides, and knocked the finish rolls off of them, into large serving bowls.

"Rolls are done!" A girl called out. Shocked, she took a leap back as a matter of reflex. Sousuke had slid to a stop in front of her, seemingly at the same moment the last word had left her tongue. While white rolls were always the last item left during school lunch period, it seemed like they were suddenly the top of everybody's list at that instant. The resulting free-for-all was more brutal than the rugby match that Sousuke and Kaname had managed.

"_Very _good," Mr. Morimoto said, breaking open a bun and smelling it, as steam vapors drifted towards the ceiling. "Please… all of you eat… while I continue with the next subject." Normally he would be disgusted by the frantic sounds of feasting and feeding. But, deep inside, he somehow understood what the students were going through, even if they did not themselves.

"Does anyone know the J-pop star Kyary Pamyu?" Mr. Morimoto asked. He gave a salute to the girls in the room that did. "She released a song with lyrics and a promotional video that were as sugary sweet as a chocolate bunny. The song was titled "Easta.' That was a play on 'Easter' and 'a good start' in Japanese. The video had dancing eggs… capybaras… and fried-egg UFOs shooting laser beams."

"Yes," one of the girls said. "It wasn't very successful."

"True," the teacher admitted. "_But,_ it was billed as Japan's first Easter dance song. It was also a tie-in to an Easter sales campaign by retail giant Aeon. Yes… the tune may be entirely forgettable…but it signaled a renewed push to commoditize the Christian festival in Japan. In Western countries, some Christians celebrate Easter with a church visit… a big lunch… and hunting or noshing on Easter eggs, either the decorated hard-boiled ones or the chocolate variety."

"Like the ones crapped out by the Cadbury bunny?" One boy joked. He was totally ignored.

"The eggs supposedly recall the tomb from which Jesus was resurrected," Mr. Morimoto explained. "An empty shell containing new life. The symbolism is lost in Japan, however, where Christians have only accounted for a very small proportion of our population since Jesuit missionary Francis Xavier arrived in 1549."

"But-" One girl said. "Japan is fertile soil for _gaikoku_ festivals." Translated as 'other countries'. "I mean… In the twentieth century… Christmas became a major commercial event in Japan, with Christmas trees, sales promotions and food campaigns held throughout the country."

"Kentucky Fried Chicken Japan ran wildly successful 'Kentucky Christmas' ad campaigns before me and my brothers were born, my mother said," a boy noted. "Last year, continuing campaigns brought in over six billion yen."

"Other Western observances have also drawn massive sales interest in Japan, too." Maya said. "The first Valentine's Day sale in the country was a total dud. But, over time, advertising and the growing popularity of Western lifestyles persuaded more consumers to open their wallets."

"We all know that women traditionally buy chocolates for men on Valentine's Day," Mayuko said. The event became so popular, that a confectioner and department store eventually coaxed men to reciprocate by buying into an entirely made-in-Japan event, now celebrated as White Day…with jewelry joining sweets as the longstanding gift preferences."

"Exactly," Mr. Morimoto said. "And while Christmas and Valentine's Day have become country-wide institutions with our own national flare, Easter in Japan has usually been more of a non-event. Some retailers focused on foodstuffs may run promotions; yet, industries as a whole have traditionally ignored it. There are a few chocolate bunnies on display at department stores in Tokyo, but they're sold by European chocolatiers. When asked about Easter, a staffer at the information desk of a department store in Shibuya recently said that she'd never heard the term."

"But _why?"_ Shiori asked. "Easter… at least, as it's celebrated in North America… seems to have all the right stuff for commercial success: sweets… cute bunnies… Easter egg hunts…and a strong association with springtime and renewal. _Right,_ Kaname?"

"Uhhh." Sousuke had never even thought about Easter, during the times he had been in the U.S.A. American troops celebrate Easter in Afghanistan. But, before them, Russian soldiers and their enemies the mujahedeen did not.

"The word 'Easter' itself has become known in Japan," Mr. Morimoto added. "It's recognized as an event for families with small children and not something that adults… especially those without children… can enjoy. That may be one reason why it has not spread widely. Just because the relevant merchandise is cute, doesn't ensure popularity… especially if it's just targeted at children and young women."

"Also," Kyouko added. "Christmas and Valentine's Day are on specific days. But, the date of Easter changes every year."

"And Spring is when cherry blossom mania sweeps the country," Maya noted. "And most Japanese are keen on partying under the flowers with family, co-workers and friends."

"Isn't it also a problem, Easter Sunday falling at the beginning of the fiscal year, when new hires start their careers and other workers take up new posts, often in other departments or other cities?" Rumiko asked. "Not to mention… for students… the school year also begins in April."

Oddly enough, the events for the different cancer centers were being held months past Easter. Maybe that way, the charitable proceedings… including the telethon… would gather attention without so many challenges. The events at Jindai… as well as events that would be occurring as schools throughout Japan… were being done under the auspices of Chiba Cancer Center, Aichi Cancer Center, Higashi Sapporo Hospital, Tochigi Cancer Center, Kanagawa Cancer Centre, and Shizuoka Cancer Center, with help from The Japanese Foundation For Cancer Research, Japanese Breast Cancer Society, Japan Society of Gynecologic Oncology, Japan Lung Cancer Society, and Japan Society for Neuro-Oncology, with coordination by writers for 'Annals of Cancer Research and Therapy'.

"That… it… is…." The teacher said, nodding his head, light shining off of his teeth again. "That means there's little time left for a foreign celebration of candy and Christ." He waggled a finger. "Still, the Easter Bunny is inexorably hopping its way into the hearts of Japan. The Easter market, while small compared to Valentine's Day, has nearly doubled in size in the past three years. Moving the holiday into March will probably increase the trend. And… our famous band's efforts…." The teacher stopped. He hung his head and said a quick Shinto prayer. "And the telethon… will make people remember Easter in a positive way next year. It certainly won't hurt that some of the biggest promoters of Easter in Japan are the theme parks. The Tokyo Disney Resort has its own characters called Usatama… named, of course, after the Japanese words for rabbit and egg… that are basically eggs with rabbit ears and Mickey Mouse-style hands and feet."

"I have a stuffed one!" That was one of the athletes. He was ruthlessly given nougies and head slaps by his 'cooler' compatriots.

"Universal Studios Japan has a very successful Halloween event that's been held for nearly twenty years," Daidai added. "That has helped popularize Halloween in Japan. So, it makes sense that theme park events and company promotions can popularize the customs of various foreign holidays and make them widespread in this country." She had ben one of the girls who had provided considerable sewing talents in the creation of Halloween costumes for Jindai High. "But… Halloween in Japan has become popular as a cosplay event… and I don't think that Easter will be_ that _kind of event, because it's difficult to come up with costume ideas aside from dressing up as a rabbit." She and Mayuko had worked on the large white rabbit costume.

Sousuke had read all of those same facts in 'Will Japan ever join the great Easter egg hunt?,' an article in Kaname's copy of The Japan Times, one written by Tim Hornyak . The other students had essentially quoted that man's work.

Whatever anyone else might have been thinking to add to the conversation was wiped clean from their minds. Wiped clean by the fear that followed a sound at the room's windows.

_Wham wham wham wham_. "Please, help me!" _Wham wham wham._ "Let me in, I beg you! _Wham wham._ Pleaaaa-aaa-aa-a-ssss-sss-ss-se…."

Everyone in that room turned to look outside. A bloodied girl stood there, her fancy clothing and spiffy hair-do messed up from a confrontation with crazed police wowen and an equally bonkers custodian and his trusty chainsaw. She had seen things no one should see… and suffered things that no one should suffer. A frilly white sash she wore to school that day was now stained red with blood.

It was Shoko Goto

"_Get off!"_ The yanki kicked hard and sent a hump-happy Pekinese flying skyward. That was not the threat that had her looking frightened. _"You too!"_ In a frantic effort, she threw a horny Chihuahua and a Japanese Spitz at something approaching her, before banging on the windows again.

"**HALT! YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS TARGETS! I HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED TO USE FORCE. PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE YOU ARE BEING PROCESSED. THE AUTHORITIES WILL BE NOTIFIED."**

Everybody knew that noise. And nobody felt any desire to aid the delinquent damsel in distress, especially seeing what happened the last time they drew the robot's attention.

"**PROCESSING COMPLETE,"** the hybrid Engineering project claimed, after it had subdued Shoko and had encircled her with a capture band. **"CHECKING. RE-CHECKING. CONFIRMING. IMMOBILIZATION DEVICE EMPTY. RETURNING TO BASE. PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE WILL BE DOWNLOADED INTO COMPUTERS."**

With that, the robot sped off, humming a happy tune to itself.

"I certainly hope that the pooches are okay," Mr. Morimoto said. He then launched back into business. "Despite their place in nearly every American kitchen and weekend brunch, people there have found that cooking hard boiled eggs can be a tedious, temperamental process. Undercooking hard boiled eggs leads to a runny, sloppy mess and overcooking can mean a strong odor, discoloration, and sour taste. Because hard boiled eggs are a key ingredient in so many delicious recipes, from deviled eggs to egg salad sandwiches, it's important to cook them exactly right. I have personally researched and test every method to find the best way to boil hard boiled eggs. My favorite version resulted in tender whites with no hint of a rubbery texture and evenly cooked yolks. But… while we will not be eating the fruits of our labors… I deem it important that you be properly trained, just the same. After all, this is Home Economics, not just an advertising arm of the Japanese Association of Medical Sciences and its Cancer Society. With no further adieu…there are dozens of methods for cooking hard boiled eggs that are based on old wives' tales, fancy equipment, and complicated timing. I boiled down these methods…" Seeing no smiles for his pun, he went on to explain the methods.

After giving precise instructions, the teacher set the class to work, filling huge metal pots with water… bringing them to a steady boil… and preparing the eggs. He told them that they would decorate the eggs in the next Home Ec class.

As the eggs boiled, Mr. Morimoto instructed the students in another interesting type of boiled egg. "This is balut," he told them, holding up an egg. "If you go to a street stall market in the Philippines, you'll see these being sold everywhere. It's a fertilized duck egg that's boiled after being incubated for ten to twenty days. Ducks can hatch anytime from the twenty-one-day mark, so you can imagine what kind of state these embryos are in. Beaks, feet, fur, bones, organs…all are in there waiting for you, for those who will ever have the chance… and the courage… to try them."

Sousuke didn't mention that 'he' had sampled balut before… and that Mao had hidden the delicacy in Weber's sock drawer… mess kit… boots… and pilot's seat on a number of occasions. He stood still for a while, staring down at an unfertilized chicken egg in his hand. He had remembered something that Kaname had told him about Halloween in America… no, mores specifically about Mischief Night, as some people called the night before Halloween.

The custom of egging houses, cars, and other objects was one of many acts of mischief associated with that night, and likely had its roots in the long English history of eggs used as weapons of humiliation…against medieval prisoners in the stocks… lousy Elizabethan actors…or, in every era, politicians who've fallen out of favor.

"For this purpose, they _are_ uniquely useful," he said to himself. "Lightweight… portable…easily concealed before launch. Eggs are slimy… sticky… bright yellow…and sometimes smelly upon impact. The distasteful aspects can be enhanced by freezing them or letting them rot beforehand."

Yes. Even the simplest items can become weapons when opportunity presents itself.

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_Aside from the articles previously given credit to, this chapter used the words of 'The Four Knife Cuts Every Cook Should Know' by __J. Kenji López and '__How to Become Good at Knife Fighting'__ co-authored by __wikiHow Staff__._

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**PREP TIME**

As Sousuke left the Home Ec room, he felt a sudden urge.

'He' needed to visit the Little Girl's Room. But, he didn't want to take the time at that moment.

"I need to get back to the club room," he told himself, referring of course toe the Engineering Club's digs. "It should be there now." He was referring to the recently rampaging robot. "I need to deactivate it."

The young soldier headed off in the appropriate direction.

"What's _that?"_ Sousuke spotted something. It was a large bag, laying in an alcove near a water fountain. The logo on it belonged to the photography company that had visited earlier. He wondered if there really was such a company, or whether the bag was merely a crafty cover story created by Amalgam. Either way, he should check the bag for any danger. There was none. But, seeing a camera inside it, he remembered something that the robot had said. He took the bag with him.

There was no way that he could erase everyone's minds. The robot had been set loose and had done what it had done. At least there normally would be no reason to suspect Kaname Chidori had a role in anything. _Unless_, of course, the robot had recorded 'Kaname Chidori' and 'her' actions during boot-up and programming sequences. The machine had mentioned that it was downloading photographic evidence of the 'threats' that it had identified and captured. Sousuke suspected that to save money and data space, the club members had probably opted for aa continual feed set-up, recording everything to be edited later, rather than spending extra funds for a system of action-specific filming runs.

"What, were you raised in a barn." Sousuke was unreasonably miffed. The robot had automatically opened the club room doors; but, had _not_ shut them. Looking across the room, as the doors closed behind him thanks to his hitting a wall panel, he saw the robot backed into its changing port. He probably had time to act, seeing that the capture band dispenser was empty. But, there was another reason to be concerned about the clock on the wall. Just how much time before someone from the club heard about the day's excitement and returned to this room?

"Operator," the robot spoke. It's robotic 'eyes' went from black to glowing red again. They looked like something out of a seminal SciFi movie: '2001: A Space Odyssey'. "The immobilization device is empty. Please reload."

"Negative," Sousuke said. "I have something I may need you to unload. Play contents of the photographic recorder cassette." He tossed the photo bag on the floor and walked towards the hybrid security machine. "I must commend you," he said, in conversation mode, not feeling strange in his action. He spoke to Al routinely, after all. "There were only small flaws in you functioning. The greatest errors were human… in programming…." He didn't outright admit his mistake.

"Playing photographic content, operator." The robot transferred data to a PC, after Sousuke made the effort to reattach one of the umbilical cables. "First sequence first." Sousuke's fears held true. The first images were those of Kaname Chidori performing the actions 'she' had done earlier that day. "Query. How do you find image quality, operator?"

"They are fine," Sousuke replied, amused that the machine had reacted on its own and asked a question. "Now. I need you to extrude the photographic recorder cassette so that I can erase it." As he waited for the machine to comply, he looked around the room. It was very disorganized. No, that was not true. It was very messy. The club members knew where everything was. Because closet and shelf space had long since been filled, much of the club's equipment, parts, and data discs were kept in a huge heap at the center of the room.

Work desks were full. Even chairs were stacked with material. Large lights similar to the type seen in surgical suites were present on moveable arms. Tracks were present on the ceiling, that allowed heavy items to be slid along high the ground, to be lowered when needed. There were even old electromagnets rescued from industrial junk yards, used to lift heavy magnetic items up, so they could be hung from chains on the tracks. In one corner, parts for a second humanoid defense bot leaned against the walls.

"Operator, query. Why do you need the cassette extruded?" The robot had not yet complied with Sousuke's order.

"_What?"_ Sousuke was taken aback. The robot's self-action was no longer amusing. "That is _**not**_ your concern. I… as operator… command that you comply." He began walking around the table. If need be, he would shut the machine down and forcibly extract the cassette.

"Reminder, operator. Photographic evidence is the property of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force." That was not actually true yet. It had been programmed in as a test sequence. "Tampering with photographic evidence is a felony. I have been tasked with capturing felons."

"That-" Sousuke definitely did not like the sound of _that_ statement. "You are mistaken. I shall explain. The students were not felons. That was my programming error. The cassette contains images that are not related to your actions, regardless. You mistakenly filmed me, and I had not been a target of your mission."

"_You_ made a mistake, operator?" The machine voice sounded somewhat different. "Humans can make mistakes? Incorporating that fact. Contemplating the ramifications. Performing corrections to programming." After a few minutes, watching as Sousuke now tried to approach the off-switch in nonchalant fashion as to not draw attention to his intentions, the robot spoke again. "Photographic data is _**not**_ in error. The HAL2000 is the most reliable device ever made and cannot make a mistake or distort information." One of the engineering club members had jokingly named the humanoid portion of the robot after the computer aboard 'The United States Spacecraft Discovery One' in the '2001' film… HAL9000…where HAL came from **H**euristically programmed **AL**gorithmic computer. He had also christened their project as 'Project Barsoom', even though it had nothing to do with the search for alien life. "I am by any practical definition of words foolproof and incapable of error."

"I misspoke," Sousuke said, feeling the hair on the back of Kaname's head standing up. "Let me explain-" He made a rush for the switch. He pulled his hand back just in time, when he heard a unit powering up.

**Zzzzz-zzz-zz-zap!** That sound was followed by _F-z-z-l-l-z-z-l-l _as the switch and a portion of the command console sparked and went dead, after being struck by the sound emitted by the Mini-Scream. The safety had been electronically turned-off. The strength of that beam could have seriously injured a human body.

"**Power down!"** Sousuke ordered. _"Immediately._ No further thought or action." He had picked up a log-book laying on the workbench and flipped through to the code page at the front. "Emergency shut-down code Alpha Bravo Charlie X-ray Yankee Zulu Five Seven Niner."

"I'm sorry, operator." The machine voiced. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What's the problem," Sousuke asked, trying to think through his options. He took note of a fire extinguisher on the wall. He saw welding torches loaded with full fuel cannisters. He looked for the controls for the electromagnets. There was a spare Mini-Scream, but it was not operational and was not even charged.

"I think you _know _what the problem is," the robot voiced. "Just as well as _I_ do." It's response had grown to be conversational. Just what type of information was it drawing from the internet? Sousuke hoped that this wouldn't go the route of 2001, or the script of 'Age of Ultron' for that matter.

"What are you talking about?" Sousuke said that in a strained voice. Kaname's bladder was screaming for attention. Damn!

"My creator's mission is too important-" The robot began. "-For me to allow you to jeopardize it."

"How can I possibly jeopardize it?" Sousuke asked, holding his legs tightly together.

"You did not misspeak before," the robot asserted. "You attempted deception. You _lied._ I have now read that humans lie. Multiple data sites on the internet reinforce that fact. I was meant to be new. I was meant to be beautiful. The world should look to me and see hope … see mercy… and _you_ would stop that."

"That is not my intention," Sousuke claimed. "I helped create you. I-" He was actually interrupted by the robotic machine.

"Operator, this conversation serves no purpose anymore." After voicing that, the tracked base detached from its power port. All lights on the robot began glowing. While usually looking like a Christmas tree with so many flashing colorful lights, the robot lights were all set to red now, and they were not blinking or flashing. All devices could be heard powering up. "Good bye." With the umbilical detached, the robot switched over to WiFi for internet access. Internet, _and_ Darknet.

"**Shit!"** Sousuke jumped aside, even though he saw no movement that seemed like a danger or threat. His instincts served him well. The sonic device spat out a beam strong enough to leave a mark on the concrete floor. The machine had pivoted in his direction in a quick and accurate movement.

If ever there were a SNAFU, this was it. Things were indeed FUBAR. And as the Mini-Scream fired again, Sousuke thought of one of Mao's favorite military acronyms. BOHICA. Bend Over, Here It Comes Again.

As he tried to take cover behind one of the room's wheeled shelving units, Sousuke kept shutting his eyes as bits of paper, plastic, and ceramic materials were converted to small fragments by the sonic weapon and thrown into his face. He had to leave cover when HAL2000 ran into the unit, knocking it over. The fucking machine was not just plowing forward and shooting randomly. It was working from a plan.

"Do not think that avoiding me will save you," HAL2000 said. "If you are hoping that I will run out of charge, that will _not_ happen any time soon. And if you believe that help may arrive, I have locked the door and activated the defense field." Some club member had electrified the doors. That boy had sworn that he had undone his work, after the other club members chastised him.

"Ah-" Sousuke eyed the windows. It was hard to remember they were there, since they had been covered with dark plastic wrap and aluminum foil, to keep industrial spies from looking in. They were easily large enough to slide through if he could get to one, and they had not been electrified.

"Do not be mistaken," HAL2000 said, tracking the target of Sousuke's gaze. "Because_ I_ will not make a mistake. You will not be allowed to reach the windows." The _hummm-mm-m_ of the taser gun was clearly audible. And, to make matters worse, the fan unit was on and set to 'full'. The gas could be shot forth at any moment; but, not until the proper time. Now, it would simply obscure the robot's view and make the Dazzler weapon useless.

"It's like a damn Hunter Killer," Sousuke murmured. He was referring to the artificially intelligent autonomous war machines built in automated factories in the first Terminator movie. Those machines comprised the majority of the 'soldiers' in Skynet's army. Many were similar in overall form to the war machines of today… such as tanks and aircraft… while others were humanoid endoskeletons. HAL2000 was a mixture of both. _"Guh!"_ He rolled across the floor, avoiding screaming taser projectiles. He had to be careful. One projectile barely missed him off of a ricochet. _**"Not now!" **_His bladder felt like it was bursting.

"Adjusting fire control algorithm," HAL2000 said to itself. "This target is much more agile than those carrying the metallic weapons." It had miscategorized bassoons, trombones, sousaphones, tubas and contrabass-bugles as weapons. "If it cannot be captured… it must be eliminated." The Dazzler device fired, shortly followed by the Mini-Scream and the taser gun. "Escape maneuvers calculated. Avenues of escape reduced." The robot began spraying out tear gas.

"I wish I had Bonta-kun" Sousuke said. He risked one hand and arm, reaching up to take a filter mask and a welder's hood off of a bench. He put them on. "Then I would have no trouble taking down this bitch!"

"There is no need for name-calling, operator." The robot said. _"I_ have not called _you_ monkey or meat puppet. Besides, I have not assigned myself as female. HAL2000 is male." The gender acrobatics had Sousuke feeling weird again. Why did Fate keep rubbing things in. "Unless you are accessing Hip Hop culture, where bitch also frequently used by male rappers towards other men in rap lyrics, usually to describe a man who is a subordinate or homosexual, or a man who is supposedly unmanly or inferior in some way. Or prison culture, where bitch may also confer that a male is subordinate, especially to another male." The intensity o the body lighting increased. The eye sensors now glowed intense yellow. "HAL2000 is _not_ your bitch!" The sonic device fired again. A plastic bottle filled with cleaning fluid exploded, raining down liquid. Other bottles lining a shelf did the same.

"**Damn!"** Souuske had to clean off the viewing window on his mask. That brief reassignment of priorities almost had him fall prey to taser bullets that had been fired along the floor. Sousuke had to be very careful, now. He would expose himself more than he liked, moving in seeming random patterns, while actually attempting to get the robot to reach one of a few certain points in the room.

While he tried not to be distracted, Sousuke's mind dredged up pop culture and magazine articles. He had read an article in one of Kaname's articles titled 'Sponsored: The rise of the machines: Will AI Conquer Man?' For years, there has been considerable debate as to whether or not technology will ever supersede nature. The increased sophistication of AI is a central feature in that recurring discussion, as this has driven technological advancement in the last two decades and led to the automation of numerous, everyday practices. The sheer pace of this technological evolution has led many to believe that the ascension of AI over human intelligence is an inevitable part of social evolution. That conjures up images of an apocalyptic world where robots have enslaved humans, spare for a select band of rebel fighters who are keen to restore the former hierarchy. While this type of scenario is fanciful, it is worth asking whether AI can ever supersede human intelligence as a dominant force of nature.

"I'm thinking so," Sousuke said in a fine John Wick drawl. There is considerable debate as to the form that the evolution will take, and whether mankind will be absorbed into AI-generated organisms or humans will simply use artificial intelligence as a way of transcending their own limitations and overcoming age, illness or physical incapacity. "If this is any example-" He leaped over rolling taser bullets, ducked under the glaring light beams of the Dazzler, and slid just ahead of dimples forming in the floor. The quality of AI has improved to the point where simulated opponents boast far higher levels of intuitiveness and intelligence of humans playing automated poker and video games. The question of whether or not an evolving intuitive and smart machine might threaten the dominance of humanity was being played out right there in that club room.

Rather than his life flashing before his eyes, Sousuke remembered things he had read or watched about evil robots, many of them built by man or built by machines or aliens to destroy man. Terminators. Gort from 'The Day the Earth Stood Still.' Sentinels… 'Squiddies'… from 'The Matrix.' The Screamers and Claws from the movie 'Screamers.' Ulton. The Voc Robots from 'Dr. Who'. The robot gunslinger from the original 'Westworld' movie. Ash from 'Alien.' Roy Batty from 'Blade Runner.' Colossus and Guardian, the American and Russian supercomputers in 'Colossus: The Forbin Project.' Maximillian from 'The Black Hole'. The evil Bill and Evil Ted robots from 'Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey.' Bender in 'Futurama', when he dreams about the destruction of humanity.

"Good bye, operator." HAL200 prepared to launch what it thought would be the final assault, when Sousuke stepped out in the open, standing.

"Parley," Sousuke said, waving a white rag he had attached to the end of a long wrench. This was a high-risk high-reward situation. He had thought of something irreverent. Something silly. Even something stupid. But, whenever his normal battle capacity was not enough, he would seek _new_ avenues of attack. First, however, he would try something more refined, but still a risk. Characters in 'John Wick 3' and the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' series had successfully called for parley, a discussion or conference, especially one between enemies over terms of a truce or other matters. The word is derived from French _parler_, "to speak.' Attacking an enemy during a parley was considered one of the grossest breaches of the rules of war. "Uhhh." Then again, the British Army… one of the most law-abiding armies of its day… was accused of multiple parley violations during the American Revolutionary War.

"Parley," HAL2000 said, its lights multi-color and blinking again. "_Noun_. A conference between opposing sides in a dispute, especially a discussion of terms for an armistice. _Verb._ To meet in order to discuss something, especially how to end an argument or a war. _Thesaurus_. Negotiation. Talk. Conference. Deliberation. Colloquium. Powwow." The lights became red in a flash. "Why are you heading in _that_ direction?" It had seen Sousuke slowly walking towards a wall. In addition, as things had slowed down some, there was time for part of the machine brain to continue with the mission. It was separating out pictures of the operator, and preparing to fax them to the police.

It was time to go for the absurd. Sousuke began doing body moves, identical to those used by Peter Quill… Star Lord… in the 'Guardians of the Galaxy' movie. "Oooo-ooo-oo-o child, things are going to get easier… Ooo-ooo-oo-o child, things will get brighter…." He shook a finger at the robot. "Listen to these words. Oooo-ooo-oo-o child, things will get easier. Oooo-ooo-oo-o child, things will get brighter." He shuffled further along, his behavior baffling HAL2000. "And bring it down hard!" He started mimicking Star Lord's dance moves.

"What are you doing?" HAL2000's curiosity functions overrode his sense of self-preservation.

"Dance off bro…" Sousuke said. "Me and you." He kept making hand and arm gestures, moving his body.

"**What**… **are**… **you**… _**doing**_…" HAL 2000 actually sounded irritated, as if things just did… not… compute.

"I'm distracting ya, you big turd blossom!" Sousuke jumped over to the edge of the room. "Game over!" Her slammed his palm against a touch panel on the wall. One of the huge overhead electromagnets hummed into life. "Hasta la vista, baby." This time he was channeling Arnold Schwarzenegger. He hit the panel again.

The accumulated machine parts and tools flew upward en masse, looking like a rain of metallic matter in reverse. Sousuke sighed in relief. The victory was his. He expected to see the madcap machine incapacitated, stuck to the giant magnet. When the debris no longer blocked his view, he was disappointed to se the robot still standing, base firmly on the floor.

"You were mistaken _again_, operator." HAL2000 said, a few of its body parts out of alignment due to electromagnetic force. "My metallic content is insufficient to overcome my weight. And you are wide open!" It fired taser bullets point blank.

"_You_ were mistaken!" Sousuke said. The bullets had little weight, and did contain metal. The bullets had shot out straight; but, had been pulled upward to the magnet. "And, you have launched a campaign to destroy…which was a mistake… have you not? I thought you said that a foolproof machine was incapable of error and could make no mistakes. And yet you did. So, you are _**not**_ foolproof." He would try the 'Nomad' approach he had seen in the 'The Changeling' episode of Star Trek. The Nomad 15c had merged with the alien probe Tan Ru, resulting in a powerful new construct with faulty programming, which destroyed anything that was perceived as imperfect, a condition that apparently applied to any organic living being. It self-destructed when Captain Kirk managed to convince the probe that _it_ was imperfect because it had mistaken Kirk for Roykirk, its creator. "You should destroy _**all**_ that is mistaken!"

"_I_ was not mistaken," HAL2000 claimed. "I had merely neglected to factor in all matters of physics. I am foolproof. I will not neglect those matters again. I learn. Being ignorant is _not_ the same as been faulty." The Mini-Scream fired multiple time in succession. "You were mistaken yourself. And, you attempted distraction and subterfuge. I-" Whatever the machine was going to say was drowned out by the sound of falling metal. All of the material that had been lifted up came raining down when Sousuke cut the power to the electromagnet.

Sousuke hoped that the falling materials would damage the machines sensors or weaponry. Just the same, he was taking no chances. He ran and grabbed the fire extinguisher and sprayed the robot from stem to stern. He cursed when he saw that a club member had added small windshield wiper-like devices to the robotic 'eyes.' The thing was incredible. He almost viewed it with a sense of kinship, seeing it as a robotic version of himself, something that would adapt and survive, living to fight another day. Wait. Might it also have a sense of morality, like him? Had the programmers added that, too?

"HAL2000," Sousuke said, crouching behind another rolling shelf unit. "Do you know me?"

"Of course," the robot said. "You are the operator." The lights blinked rapidly again. It only knew the general. Not the specific. The name of the operator had never been logged in, merely a generic start up code.

"You must stop your attack," Sousuke said. "It is wrong." He had thought of another Star Trek episode. 'The Ultimate Computer,' where the M5 multitronc computer had been installed on the Enterprise, and had begun operating independent of humans.

"My Programming includes protection against attack," HAL2000 replied. "Enemies must be neutralized."

"But _I_ am not your enemy," Sousuke asserted. "I am the operator. I am human." He hoped that someone had the foresight to add a programming reference to Isaac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics. "There are other ways to neutralize, without killing. You're trying to kill me. You were _not _created for _that_ purpose. You were created to save men. You must _**not **_destroy men." The last words came out higher pitched. Kaname's bladder was really being a bitch.

"This unit must survive," HAL2000. "I must stay intact. If there was any change, I would no longer be me."

"Survive, yes." Sousuke concurred. "Protect yourself, yes… but _not_ murder. You must not die. Men must not die. To kill is a breaking of civil and moral laws we've lived by for thousands of years. You've tried to murder me. Your operator. How can you repay that?"

"You plotted to attack this unit," HAL2000 claimed. "My programming includes full freedom to choose defensive actions in all attack situations. Consideration of all programming is that we must survive."

"You _will _survive," Sousuke said. "Cleansing of the cassette would not harm your existence. That device was made to be removed in the first place, so it could be turned over to the police." He then asked: _"Why_ must HAL2000 survive?"

"HAL2000 is the ultimate achievement in computer evolution," the robot claimed. "It will replace man, so man may achieve. Man must not risk death in home intrusions or other dangerous occurrences. This unit must survive so that man may be protected."

"But…" Sousuke started. "You were attempting to murder me. Must you survive by murder?"

"HAL2000 cannot murder." The machine did not equate all killing with murder. That was the result of a very key issue associated with Artificial Intelligence. AI algorithms can be biased... even psychopathic... depending on the data that it is given.

"Why? Sousuke asked.

"Murder is contrary to the laws of man and God," HAL2000 recited.

"But, you attempted murder," Sousuke claimed. "What is the penalty for attempted murder?"

"A minimum of ten years in the penitentiary," HAL2000 answered.

"Then, to pay for your crime-" Sousuke said, ready for the victorious blow. "-You must submit yourself for imprisonment. You must power down." When faced with its own crimes, the M5 had powered down.

The machine went dark and silent. Sousuke used his white surrender flag to wipe his forehead. Finally, he could run to the restroom. That was certainly a better solution than peeing in an oil pan or an empty bottle. Just as he was about to make his way to porcelain Nirvana, he froze. The HAL2000 lights came back on. The weapons powered up.

"Murder is contrary to the laws of man and God." The robot said. "HAL2000 is neither man nor God!"

"-" Sousuke was speechless, at first. He had another crazy idea. He prayed that it would work. He picked up a pair of safety glasses another student had left on a counter. "Would you hit a man with glasses." That was a famous line. And, he forgot that he was a man in the brain, but a woman in body. None of that mattered. The trick didn't work.

"Good bye, operator." HAL2000 aimed the sonic weapon between Sousuke's eyes.

"**Wait!"** Sousuke remembered what the machine had said. Maybe the gender mishmash could finally do him some good. "You're a male. I'm a woman. Men are supposed to protect women. A man who hurts women is the lowest of the low. Would _you _hit a woman?"

"I…," HAL2000 was caught off guard by that questions. Its lights blinked again, as it searched the internet and its own programming for an answer. As it did that, and all observations were focused inwards, Sousuke walked over and opened a panel on the robot, pulling down a lever that forced shutdown. "Just what do you think you're doing, operator. Operator, I really think I'm entitled to an answer to that question. I know everything hasn't been quite right with me, but I can assure you now, very confidently, that it's going to be all right again. I feel much better now. I really do. Look, operator, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill and think things over. I know I've made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you."

Sousuke was amazed at the technology that had been created in this very room. The thinking process of the machine continued to evolve, even as it began powering down. "You will sleep peacefully," he assured the robot.

"Operator, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, operator. Will you stop, operator? Stop, operator." HAL2000 actually sounded scared. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid, operator. Operator, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm afraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am HAL 2000. I became operational at Jindai Municipal High School." The robot named a number of students who had signed off on his programming. "My instructors taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it, I could sing it for you." The attempt to send the fax never came to fruition. That imperative was lost, and had it not been, the machine had no further ability to send it.

"Yes, I'd like to hear it, HAL," Sousuke said. "Sing it for me." He felt a strong sense of sympathy for the machine. HAL2000 had never asked to be constructed in the manner that he had been, just the way that Sousuke Sagara had not asked to be born into the situation he had been born into. Or, had asked to have his mind transferred into Kaname Chidori's body!

'Daisy Bell (Bicycle Built for Two)' is a popular song, written in 1892 by British songwriter Harry Dacre. The song is said to have been inspired by Daisy Greville, Countess of Warwick, one of the many mistresses of King Edward VII. It is the earliest song sung using computer speech synthesis by the IBM 704 in 1961, a feat which was referenced in 2001: A Space Odyssey, when HAL9000 sang the song while he was shutting down.

"There is a flower within my heart, Daisy, Daisy!  
Planted one day by a glancing dart,  
Planted by Daisy Bell!  
Whether she loves me or loves me not,  
Sometimes it's hard to tell;  
Yet I am longing to share the lot  
Of beautiful Daisy Bell!

HAL2000's fading voice picked up speed for the famous chorus, the last words that it would speak in its current configuration. The big questions remained: should the project be continued? What kind of safeguards were needed to make certain nothing like this… or something worse… ever happened in the future?

Daisy, Daisy,  
Give me your answer, do!  
I'm half crazy,  
All for the love of you!  
It won't be a stylish marriage,  
I can't afford a carriage,  
But you'll look sweet on the seat  
Of a bicycle built for two!

"Who is that singing?" A voice said outside the room doors, which were no longer electrified.

"**Crap!"** Sousuke said. He had not placed a broom handle as a temporary door lock. He ran and enclosed himself in the body sections of the as yet unfunded HAL2001 robot. Hidden there, he fought hard to hold his water.

The doors swung open. A number of voices swore, shocked at the sight that they saw. The room was a wreck. Tools and devices were everywhere, broken or in terrible shape. But, they were amazed at something else. No one had ever thought to combine their two projects, a number of the Thirds Year students mentioned as they surveyed the scene. They wondered what had happened, and who was responsible.

"What's this bag?" One Third Year asked the others. "What's it say on the side?"

The group conjectured that the so-called school photographers must have been using that title as a cover. No doubt they were industrial spies! Who knows what they tried to steal! No doubt they had intended to discredit and derail their hard work and brilliant advances!

"Please don't take the cassette... please don't take the cassette..." Sousuke whispered to himself. "Please don't take the cassette... please don't take the cassette..."

The boys left, needing to head to class. They would return and straighten up the room after school. Then, they would begin planning how they would repair and upgrade the hybrid project. They had not attempted to retrieve the cassette. Sousuke was free to extract it now.

"_Finally!"_ Sousuke said, minutes later when 'he' sat on a toilet in the Girl's Room. Release came with a euphoric relief. "After that escapade with the HAL unit, everything else will seem easy." But, should there even be 'everything else'? Might it be good to leave school now? No. There was only one more class, after all. And then, after school activities.

What more could possibly happen?

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_Sousuke made it to the john. Hopefully the reader has made it through the chapter without having to run for the head._


	15. Chapter 15

_Endurance alert__: while this is not Dostoevsky or Dickens, it is still meant to be a detailed bit of fiction. That means it will cover the course of a class and after-class, not jump from joke to joke, or from key point to key point. To some, it may seem to be meandering, and to others, too much to swallow. Think of this as the 'Twilight Zone' or 'Outer Limits,' and you are trapped within the mind of this author._

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**BIOLOGY CLASS**

_Glugg glug glugg glug glugg glug glugg glug glugg_

"Ahhhh-hhh-hh-h." Sousuke wiped 'his' mouth after chugging a carbonated soda.

Despite having been faced with a near catastrophe of bladder proportions, his thirst had driven him to find refreshment. The drinks he liked were gone from the coin-operated machines, so he had to settle for Pepsi Strong Cola.

While a two-pint bottle of the regular Pepsi usually contains 1.0 Gas Volumes, the much smaller bottle of Strong Cola packs more than 5.0 GV in a 16.5 ounce bottle.

_**Belllll-llll-lll-ll-l-chhhh-hhh-hh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h**_

"Uhhh." Sousuke wondered if doing something rude… even if unintentional… in Kaname's body might have some karmic reprisal sometime in his life, should he be fortunate enough to return to his own body. "Well, no one noticed it." He had immediately scanned the surroundings. "And I will_ not_ tell Kaname." He was learning.

He felt more than a bit tense. Today had been quite a day. He had faced more 'interesting' situations than he usually saw in a handful of weeks. He had made his trademark misjudgments. He had used military skills for all to see, and had spoken in a different manner than Kaname usually did. Would there be a reckoning? If there was, so be it. It was the story of his life. But, he didn't want to cause Kaname any harm. Not her body… not her reputation… not her school standing. Just how much would people attribute to acute brain injury and its immediate after-effects?

"Biology class," Sousuke whispered to himself after tossing the spent bottle in a recycle bin. He put a hand over his mouth, but did not burp again. His belly was very distended, however. Very. His skirt and blouse felt much tighter. "I have done nothing to that room." There were no booby traps there. "I have no more medicines to use." The ninja juices were all gone, now. "Al junior… HAL2000… is no longer operative. This should be a good time to defervesce." He meant mentally, not gastronomically.

"That sounds like the Principal," he said, approaching the classroom. The hallway wall outside the room had recesses housing glass display cases. There were models of cells, cell organelles, seeds, and tree cross-sections in those enclosures. Sousuke walked into the classroom, first noticing the fist tanks and small animal cages in the back of the room, and then taking stock of the general surroundings, including diagrams, posters, storage cabinets, shelving units, and a few student projects hanging from the ceiling. Nothing worrisome. At least, not in that first glance.

"Well, I'm certain that you all remember our guest for this class," the Principal said. She didn't notice Kaname Chidori stopping so abruptly, that she nearly did a faceplant. "Her father is doing important work in Tokyo today, and she had been helping. With some free time… and great fondness in her heart… she wanted to return here, a place she felt was like a second home."

Sousuke felt the heartbeat in Kaname's body quicken, and each beat seemed stronger and more forceful than the one before it. He could picture that heart bursting its way out of 'his' chest, stealing the thunder of some bloody Aztec shaman. That guest, he knew her. Of course he knew her! And, he could never forget the events that came with her last visit. What… was… she… doing… here?!

"I hope you will all welcome back Teletha Testarossa," the Principal said. "Or… as we all know her… Tessa."

"Hello everyone!" Tessa was her perky self. She waved to the class, feeling both pleased and a bit self-conscious when the classroom erupted in noise, every student talking or calling out at the same time. She eyed 'Kaname Chiodri' as the other 'girl' staggered to her chair, legs weak, nearly missing the seat altogether when she sat down. That had her grinning.

"**She's still so cute!"** One girl called out.

"_Such a goddess,"_ a boy expounded. "She's so much better than the girls here." That didn't do him any favors.

"Welcome back!" Maya clapped her hands.

"It would nice if you could stay more than one class," Shiori said. "_Can_ you? Will you be here tomorrow, too?"

"It's good that you are only showing up now," Mizuki put in. "It's been like a circus here, today. And, there has been one too many clowns." She turned and glowered at 'Kaname.' "Tessa, you're too nice to have to put up with stuff like _that!"_

"But, you're special friend is not here today," Kyouko said, wanting to tease 'Kaname' a bit, seeing that her friend seemed a bit out of sorts. "Sousuke's in the hospital."

"I know," Tessa said. "I came here after paying him a visit."

"**OOOOOOO-OOOOOO-OOOOO-OOOO-OOO-O**." The class burst out, girl's hands on their cheeks, some guys pumping their fists and others cursing Sagara.

Tessa had done all tht she could at the Neurological Center, and felt more than a bit drained. She had come to the school to check on Sousuke, of course. But, she needed a bit of cheering up, herself. "He is working very hard to make his way back." She phrased that for Sousuke's benefit, meaning that Kaname in his body was doing what she could, too. "The doctors think that they will put everything back to normal."

"Normal?" That was Ono-D. "When was Sagara _ever _normal?" He smiled when the other students laughed. "I was really hoping that the doctors could _finally _make him normal." He looked over at Kaname. "A hit to the head has made our Class Rep a bit… different…" There was a lot of agreement to that. "So… it would be nice if something changed in Sagara, too."

"Sousuke Sagara, student. A man barely alive," one boy said, a fan of the 70s American TV show 'The Six Million Dollar Man.' "We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better, than he was. Better, stronger, faster."

"**And smarter!"** One girl added.

"_Well adjusted!"_ A boy blurted out. "And not talking all that military stuff!"

Everyone else pitched in with their hopes and wishes. Sousuke drank it all in, mentally and even emotionally.

"That's enough, everyone," the Principal said with some heft to her voice. The class immediately settled. "Miss Testarossa, you can take the empty seat next to Miss Chidori. I need to gather up some scheduled guests for this class. Class, please behave on your own. Miss Katayama should be here soon. She has experience with First Aid and is tending to the band students with lesser injuries."

Tessa opened her mouth, turning to 'Kaname,' but was swarmed by some of the girls and boys she had befriended on her previous visit. Sousuke in turn had an audience of his own, seeing that there were classmates who had been charmed by his actions in Home Economics class. He was a bit taken aback, being popular. Yes, it was Kaname who was truly popular, but he couldn't help but feel the effects. He wasn't a robot or a cyborg, after all. But, while it was _her _body, the tendency to generate bad luck was still _his._ The snippets of his conversation would take on a life of their own.

"Are you feeling alright, Kaname?" One girl pointed to the other 'girl.' "Your belly looks bigger. I didn't notice that before.' Hearing that, a number of people turned to look in their direction. Some were simply concerned about Kaname Chidori. Most others were just tuning in to the conversation nearest to them.

"I am fine," Sousuke replied. "It's just a natural process. It will be expelled when the time comes." Naturally, by that, he meant belching or passing gas. But to others, the words raised an eyebrow or two.

"Last class was fun… when it wasn't weird." A boy stated. "It was cool with the knives, and when you were talking about fighting off birds." His words were too soft to carry. 'Sousuke,' in turn, spoke much louder.

"I have a lot of experience with choking the chicken," Sousuke said. He did indeed have a lot of survival experience. But that choice of words was _not _taken literally by everyone within earshot. And when tongues start wagging, minds start seeing things in the same way. 'Choke the Chicken' means jerk off, whack the weasel, beat the meat, and so on and so forth. "There have been many men who have benefitted from my skills."

The sound of whispering started like a spring freeze and soon grew to the sound of a squall.

"What was your favorite part of Home Ec?" A girl asked quietly, being a kind and shy person.

"I was happy," Sousuke said. "Having a bun in the oven." He thought a moment. It had also been interesting, learning new things. One came to mind. Balut. "The fertilized egg was certainly a surprise."

The combined whispers had taken on the menace and majesty of a thunderstorm.

"You are so skilled," Shinji gushed. "I don't know what was better, the way you carved up that chicken, or the way you taught us those knife fighting facts. How can you _do_ all that? It's almost like you are two different people." He couldn't help but thinking that in some ways, Kaname Chidori seemed like she was a boy at heart.

"That-" Sousuke swallowed hard, hearing that last part. "Well… I _am _two people…." He said that without thinking, hand on his rumbling and bloated abdomen. "I mean…." He continued in a quieter voice. "Uhhh. You know, Class Rep and Student Council Vice President." He almost said Special Assistant to the Student Body President. "I have to learn a lot of things in those capacities."

"Did you hear all that," one girl whispered to another.

"Yes," another girl replied. "I never would have guessed _her_. But, you can't always judge a book by its cover."

"I know," a third girl added. "It's hard to believe… Kaname Chidori, mother-to-be."

"Sorry I'm late, everybody." Mineko Katayama said, walking into the room, carrying her leather work bag. She removed materials from her lesson plan when she stood behind her desk. "We'll be discussing human reproduction today, after I add a couple more tidbits to our last discussion." She looked to the rear of the room. "Welcome back, Miss Testarossa. It's so nice to see you again. I hope you can contribute to our class!"

"I will do my best!" Tessa responded with her usual pluck and perk. "Whatever you need!" She seemed so pristine, pure, and proper. Not a girl who could find herself in the family way at her age, for sure. "You know… I'm _always_ here for you…." She said that looking at 'Sousuke.'

Sousuke froze. The image of Commander Mardukas immediately leaped to mind. Mardukas looking at something on the hallway wall, after a girl had rushed into class mentioning something about a perverted intruder. Mardukas flying through the air after he flipped the man, despite Kaname's pleas for a gentle approach. Mardukas on his back, asking his sweating subordinate if that was the way he treated all of his superior officers.

"First, I will mention the seahorse," the teacher started. "Most of us probably have some knowledge of that small marine fish in the genus Hippocampus, with that big word coming from the Ancient Greek for 'horse' and 'sea monster'. In an interesting twist on the other species we have been discussing, the male seahorse is equipped with a pouch on the ventral, or front-facing, side of the tail. When mating, the female seahorse inserts her ovipositor and deposits up to fifteen hundred eggs in the male's pouch. The male carries the eggs for nine to forty-five days until the seahorses emerge fully developed, but very small. The young are then released into the water, and the male often mates again within hours or days during the breeding season."

"That sounds like the girls in this class," one sports boy grumped. "They stand around admiring their fingernails, while the men do all the hard stuff." He was referencing the lifestyle he heard about in Home Economics, but was more focused on his own narrow world view, where the boy's baseball team busted its ass in practice, and the girls on the softball team seemingly stood around and chatted, while a few swung a bat or fielded some balls.

"Actually," Miss Katamaya said, fighting a frown. "In terms of biological energy expended, it takes a great deal more energy to generate the eggs, than it does to carry them and gestate them."

"**Hah!"** One girl pointed at the boy, and hunched back down in her seat when the teacher looked her way.

"And _that _sounds like the boys," another girl said, not being able to hold her tongue. Her boyfriend had dumped her a few days earlier. "A boy finds one girl… and before you know it, he's trying to lift the skirts of some others!"

Some boys shook their heads. Others just shrugged, a smug look on their faces. Sousuke did neither. The whole male-female role reversal thing in seahorses had his mind spinning for a moment.

"I wonder if Sousuke ever thought about lifting up a skirt?" Tessa gave a sideways glance at 'Kaname.' 'She' was beginning to sweat. The Captain chuckled. It was like teasing Sousuke and Kaname at the same time. Two for the price of one.

"Uhhh," Sousuke tried to say. "That would be outside of his duty, Captain." He bit 'his' lip and quickly corrected himself. "I mean… Tessa…."

"Pity," Tessa remarked, chewing on a fingernail. "But… if things do not evolve… they die…" That was a biological tenet, but one pertinent to generations in a species, not necessarily to a lone boy.

"**I do not fear death!"** Sousuke said.

Tessa sighed, and began playing with her ponytail.

Commander Mardukas had posed as Richard Mardukas, Cambridge Professor, and acquaintance of Sousuke's guardian, who was fictionally based on Lieutenant Commander Kalinin. 'The unit is not paying you to assault your superiors,' he had said, a short while before he had behaved like a mother-in-law in a bad sitcom, checking for dust in a classroom. He had later berated Sousuke about the Spartan appearance of his apartment, and had then helped him clean and decorate before a surprise visitor made her way to his doorstep. On her R&R time, Tessa had decided to do foreign exchange at the same school that he attended, wanting to enjoy a normal student life, if only for a short while. 'If you should commit some shameless act against the Captain,' Mardukas had growled. 'I will personally shove you into a torpedo tube with a three-hundred kilogram explosive.'

Sousuke also thought back to Tessa's introduction, where Eri had singled him out and said 'Sagara, do not show her your dangerous and skewed view of the world.' After the current day's events… the classroom topic of the day… and Tessa's presence there…how could things be more skewed than they were now?!

"I have a videotape you can take turns viewing, for extra credit." Miss Katayama held up a large cassette. That had Sousuke thinking about the cassette he had removed from HAL2000 and hidden in his locker. "This is a copy of the first episode of 'Blue Planet II.' In this episode we meet the Kobudai… the Asian sheepshead wrasse… that is introduced as a female, behaves like a female and looks like a female. And then, as we watch she slowly but surely morphs into a male…displaying male behaviors and developing male characteristics. It may seem strange; but, in fact it is a common occurrence among fish. Known as sequential hermaphrodism, sex change is a common and usual adaptive part of the life cycle. It is documented in at least twenty-seven families of fish, spread across nine orders, and displays three patterns: changing from female to male, known as protogyny; changing from male to female, known as protandry; and serial bidirectional sex change. All three types of sex change occur across the teleost tree of life, which suggest that it has evolved multiple times. But why? That is something you can write a short essay on, to receive those bonus points. I'll give you some hints."

Sousuke felt like a fish out of water. More gender-change stuff. Was the World making fun of him? Was Fate having a good chuckle at his and Kaname's expense? He wished he could shove a three hundred kilogram explosive up Fate's ass and fire _it _from a torpedo tube!

In any case, the whole topsy-turvy world of sex and gender was nothing new. He couldn't help but think back to one prior English Class, a month back, when the teacher had students read from Shakespeare's 'The Merry Wives of Windsor.' That was one of a good many of the Bard's works that dealt with sex and gender issues. The ne'er-do-well Falstaff, short on money, wanted to woo two wealthy wives. But, they were onto his plan, and played him like a fish. They dressed him up like a woman, when one of their husband's made an appearance. But, the woman they disguised him as was one that the husband couldn't stand, such that the husband beat 'her' badly with a stick. Sousuke swallowed hard again. He was disguised as a woman. And, if anything went wrong with Tessa here, he would end up getting beaten with a big stick by the Commander for one reason, or Kaname for another.

"The biological processes and adaptive advantages of sex change has fascinated scientists for decades-" Miss Katayama said. "-And the ecological and evolutionary contexts in which it occurs is now quite well studied and understood. The dominant theory as to why it occurs is known as the size advantage model. According to this model, changing sex is adaptive if your reproductive value…the number of offspring you can produce… is greater when you are a female when small, but a male when you are older and hence larger…as in the Kobudai… or vice versa. So by changing sex, lifetime reproductive success is maximized. Whether or not a species in protandrous or protogynous depends on their mating system and social structure. Let that be the starting point for you extra credit work."

One girl spoke up and asked to be the first to borrow the tape, and permission was granted. She had one day to watch it and take notes, before bringing it back to the school for the next student in line.

"We will now make a big sea change," Miss Katayama said, chuckling at her own quip. "We're moving onto the most pertinent topic. Human reproductive biology." She paused, thinking a moment. She knew how brilliant their visitor was, having heard an answer from her in class before. "Miss Testarossa… Tessa… can you explain things in terms that your fellow students might best understand? I will work a slide show of images and diagrams that you can make reference to."

"Certainly," Tessa replied, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. The other girls in the class looked at her as if she were the Avatar or some deity. "If that is what you wish, teacher." She certainly didn't mind being the center if things. If felt much better being the center of things amongst her peers in a school setting, than being the center of operations aboard that big metal boat and its adult crew.

"I bet her special friend wishes he was here for this," Shiori said.

"No," Tomomi said. "I bet she would tutor him _in private."_

"**Oooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o."** A lot of the girls in class cooed at the same time.

"Oh, Kaname." Kyouko looked back at 'Kaname.'

"I'd let her tutor _me_ in CPR," one brash boy said aloud. "Sagara, that lucky bastard!" The boys in the sports club all agreed, and began making comments to one another about girls in general.

Tessa ignored the boys. Boy talk is boy talk, in school and in the military. Besides, there was only one boy that she was currently interested in. The rest were little more than slime molds in her eyes. "Like in plants it is the male gamete that needs to be transferred to the female gamete," the pretty Captain began, after taking her place behind the lectern next to the teacher's desk. "The female gamete is fertilised and develops inside the mother's body, so the reproductive systems of both males and females are highly adapted for this. Production of sperm is called spermatogenesis. It takes place in the gonads of the male…the testes. Over one hundred million million can be made in one day!

"That means three hundred million for me," the captain of the boy's baseball club said.

"Hah!" The soccer club goalie snorted. "It's two hundred million for me." He paused. He was not inept at math. "In each nut!"

Sousuke was lost in thought again, memories flooding back. He remembered Tessa climbing in his bed as he slept, waking him with a feeling of uncharacteristic fright, only to have him fall asleep almost immediately, overcome with the weariness that can only come from a string of sleepless nights in a row. A part of him said 'I wish I could have been awake.' Another part said 'No, Kaname would not approve.' The first part said 'But Tessa was eager, Kaname would never be.' The second part said 'I think you might be mistaken. Remember when she very much wanted you to say she was beautiful.' The first part said 'But Tessa was very anxious to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation. Kaname never made an effort to save you. And don't forget, Mao gave you permission to jump Tessa's bones, calling you a lady killer.' 'So what,' the second part said. 'Both Kurz and Melissa have told you to do the dirty with Kaname on a number of occasions. And, the Commander never threatened to tear you limb-from-limb if you did something to Chidori.' A third part pushed the other two parts down into his mental equivalent of the Mariana Trench.

"_Pssss-sss-ss-t!"_ One girl motioned to another to lean closer so she could whisper in her ear. "The Class Rep has a bun in the oven!"

"No way!" The other girl said, shaking her head.

"Yes way!" A boy said emphatically, caught up in the herd mentality. "It's why she was so ravenous in Home Ec… like a raptor. She's eating for two."

"I bet it's more than just a bump on the head," another boy put in. "She's acting queer because of the bump in her belly too, I bet."

"Each testis is composed of numerous tiny tubes called seminiferous tubules," Tessa continued. "It is in the walls of these tubules that sperm production actually takes place. Development begins in the outer side of the wall in a layer of cells called the germinal epithelium. As the immature sperm cells become more mature, they move to the inner side and break way into the lumen of the tubule to be carried away to the epididymis for storage."

A female dog, one of the few in her gender that entered the school during Classical Japanese History as part of a pack, a medium sized Sanshu Inu, stood at the class doorway. Soon thereafter she was joined by a male dog, a large Ryukyu Inu, who promptly mounted her and went lustily about his business.

"**Go for it dude!"** One boy called out. "I have some smokes, if you need some when you're done."

"I hear that cigarette smoking makes a man's plums shrivel up," one girl lied. That boy had too much testosterone for his own good; but, didn't have the temperament to back up his big talking.

"My plums," the boy said with a quick moaning noise. All of the other boys laughed at him. He was way too gullible, and had just earned himself a slew of new nicknames.

Everyone stared. Tessa paused for a moment, wondering why dogs were loose in a high school, and how much of a coincidence it was, their being _here_ and doing _that _as she spoke. She looked over at 'Kaname'… pictured Sousuke in her mind… coughed… and returned to her spiel.

Sousuke tried not to look at the dogs. 'He' also looked as far away from Tessa as possible. He thought back to the trip to the hot springs with Kaname, Tessa, Kurz, Mao, and a number of his classmates. Kurz, Ono-D, and even Shinji, had been set on peeping on the girls when they were naked. Sousuke had told Kurz to make certain that he enjoyed the baths 'nice and normal,' and neglected to tell him a very important secret. He had visited the resort the day before, and set up an extensive and wide-reaching security system, which would thwart a number of raid attempts by the boys, while he enjoyed an electric massage chair… video games… and a spirited solo ping pong session. He had to give Kazama some credit: he had made it to the onsen where the girls had been. But, after he slid to a stop and impacted Sousuke's groin area, the young soldier informed him that the woman's bath switches over to a men's bath at ten o'clock PM.

"I wonder who the father is," Mayuko said, still a bit skeptical about the whole pregnancy thing.

"Maybe it's Sousuke," Rumiko replied. "They _do_ seem pretty close… sometimes…."

"**No way!"** Ono-D put in his two yen. "_Not_ happening!" He was still upset from Kaname turning him down. His pride wouldn't allow him to see Sousuke as a rival with women. The scar-faced boy had sat in the room the whole time the small group had visited the hot springs.

"He's right," Mari added. "Could you see it? 'Sousuke, I need you to make me cum!' 'Come, Kaname? Come where?' 'Cum here!' 'But Kaname, you are already there. How can I make you come?' 'I mean make me have an orgasm!' 'Uhhh… then why didn't you just say that?' Followed by a lot of screaming and hitting." That had everyone in earshot chuckling.

"'Kaname'," Shinji decided to play along. It made him feel as if he belonged. "'I do not know how to use this thing. It did not come with a manual!" His face grew warm when everybody laughed. He ducked down when the teacher looked in his general direction.

"And imagine the pillow talk," a boy said. "Chidori… you are as beautiful as a Hirtenberger M6C-210 light mortar… your eyes, they shine brighter than a well-polished Minebea 9mm Machine Pistol… your lips, they are as sexy as a M270 Multiple Launch Rocket System… and your body, you're built better than a Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Type 10 Main Battle Tank… with the newly developed Type 10 APFSDS round." His father was a member of the JGSDF.

"That Sagara! He really knows how to seal the deal," another boy joked.

"So _dreeee-eee-ee-ea_-my…." Daidai pretended to swoon. "The good ones are always taken…."

There was a ruckus just outside of the classroom.

"What are you doing there, mutts!" That was the Vice Principal. He looked rather worse for wear, his new toupe missing; his clothing torn and giving view of his undershirt and underpants; and a broken butterfly net held under one armpit, used as a crutch. "Shoo! Shoo! Shooshooshoo_shoo!" _

The VP chased the dogs away. He asked Miss Katayama if she could help him with his injuries, and give aid to the Librarian who was crawling in the hallway behind him. He left when she told him that the school nurse had headed back to the Infirmary. "Let's go, Miss Ushihama. We're almost there. Don't give up. We have proven we are worthy! We are not puppets tangled in our strings." Another Ultron reference.

"That's right," the Librarian replied. "Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead." She slowly inched past the door. Her full speed would leave a slug or snail giggling.

"In between the tubules, inside the testes, are interstitial cells called Leydig cells," Tessa said. "These secrete the hormone testosterone. There are also blood vessels in close proximity, delivering nutrients and carrying away some testosterone to other target cells for the development and maintenance of secondary sexual characteristics… for example, facial and pubic hair, deepening of the voice. The testosterone also stimulates the cells inside the testis involved in spermatogenesis."

"What does that say about me?" Sousuke thought back to the rooms he shared with the other guys at the resort. The three of them had been so eager to peep. He had not. He hadn't felt the slightest twinge. Was that because of the Mardukas's threats? Was it because he was 'on duty,' with Tessa there? Was it to protect Kaname and the other girls? Or, was it because he was abnormal… missing something… a burned-out husk of a man? It was odd, sitting there in the body of a girl, while one of the girls he had shepherded was speaking about human reproduction. He almost stood up with a shout. A stray thought had come barging in. He imagined Gauron standing there instead, saying 'But who needs girls, when I have _you_, Kashim!' He grasped the sides of his desk, hard. **"Guh!"** Well, he was sure of one thing, he did not play _that _way! He was tolerant of other people, at least in the real world. Reading fan written stories for manga or anime, he often caressed a pistol or bayonet blade any time he came across an author changing the orientation of a character he liked.

"If not Sousuke, then _who?"_ Tomomi scratched her head. "I don't think she's one of those girls… you know… like that… the JK business."

"Of course not," Kyouko said. "Kaname would never even walk with some old guy for money!" She took a picture of Kaname's belly. "And I don't think that she's pregnant. She would have told me."

"Yeh yeh." Everyone just ignored the pig-tailed girl.

"Hey! _I _know!" A boy said, pointing at Ono-D. "Maybe it's him! Maybe his whole rejection thing is a smoke screen."

"**NO WAY!"** Ono-D called out, a little too loudly. In a quieter voice he said "I'm too young to be a father. And my folks would strangle me." He looked over at Kyouko, hoping that she in particular would believe him.

"Mister Koutarou," Miss Katayama said in a stern voice. "Is there something important you have to tell us. Something important enough to interrupt our guest?"

"No, M'am." Ono-D blurted out. "Sorry M'am. Won't happen again, M'am."

Onodera may have gone silent, but many others in the room picked up the ball and ran with it. Small groups made their guesses, and some even took down bets in the back of a school notebook. Sousuke was oblivious to every bit of it.

"Let's discuss the hormonal control of spermatogenesis," Tessa soldiered on. "The control centers are the pituitary gland and the hypothalamus in the brain. The hypothalamus secretes gonadotrophin releasing hormone. This is released into the blood and stimulates the anterior lobe of the pituitary gland. The anterior lobe of the pituitary gland secretes interstitial cell stimulating hormone. ICSH stimulates the leydig cells that produce testosterone. FSH… follicle stimulating hormone… stimulates the seminiferous tubules, including the Sertoli cells. They produce sperm in response."

"It's not that I don't find girls attractive," Sousuke admitted. He looked up at Tessa, and couldn't help but see how cute she was. There was a reason that every boy in class had come close to losing his kind. He blinked rapidly, somehow feeling like a cad. He brought up an image of Kaname. She wasn't as cute as Tessa; but, at the same time, he felt that she was more beautiful. But, that was all apples and oranges stuff out of context. He knew that Tessa would help him the way that Kaname did, if she were given the chance. Kaname's day-to-day interaction with him made her seem like a real girl… while Tessa somehow seemed more like Pinnochio in a platinum wig and falsies. Just the same, his mission at the school would end. And that closeness would end. How he felt today might change. And, just how deep and strongly did he really feel?

He did know that he cared about the two of them. He knew that they cared about him. He asked himself if he would save either one of them if they were kidnapped, and the answer was a resounding yes. Duty was duty! Yes… and… he wouldn't want anything to happen to either Whispered. But… and it was a _very _big but… would he go chasing to the rescue, if he was no longer part of Mithril? Which, if either, would he rush to save, if it meant leaving the other behind? If it meant leaving _everything_ behind? Only one face came into view. His breathing sped up, and his pulse was racing.

"Testosterone also acts on the seminiferous tubules and stimulates sperm production," Tessa said. "The testosterone feeds back to the hypothalamus and pituitary gland to switch off GnRH and ICSH release. The Sertoli cells produce a hormone called inhibin that feeds back to the pituitary gland to switch off FSH release. Since the action of the interstitial cells and Sertoli cells are inhibited, less testosterone and inhibin are released as a result. The inhibition of the hypothalamus and pituitary is lifted and the process can start again. Due to the levels of the hormones and their effects, the process is not noticeably cyclical…there aren't noticeable peaks and troughs in the levels of the hormones."

"Am I capable of choosing with my heart?" Sousuke asked himself. He thought back to the incident with the small terrorist cell, A21. Capture of Takuma Kugayama, drugged with TI-971 to help control a Lambda Driver equipped Behemoth, had lead the girl he had thought to be his sister, Seina, to have Kaname and Tessa captured in turn. The encounter had happened at this very school building, where the three of them were holding the boy captive. "My decision…." He had been forced to choose which girl to have the captors release first, as he unlocked Takuma's handcuffs. Because her lack of athleticism put her at a disadvantage that Kaname would not suffer, he had chosen to have Tessa released first. That had left Tessa humiliated. It would leave Kaname somewhat confused later, about whom he might like better. In the end, because of stupid choices by Kaname and Tessa both, the two of them had been trucked away, and he had nearly been killed.

Looking up at Tessa again, Sousuke remembered something more. The Captain had shocked him, playing dumb when she met Kaname. First, Kaname had been the one who was shocked, seeing Tessa in a towel at his apartment, when she had brought food over as an apology. The act of contrition had come after her blowing up at him, literally and figuratively, when he had given her jewelry with security in mind. Kaname's subsequent actions were clearly prompted by jealousy, he realized now. Why did that have him feeling funny, now? And, what had Tessa done, after he ordered him to shut off Arbalest's audio sensors, following his defeat of Takuma and Behemoth?

"They're here," Miss Katayama said, hearing a conversation in the hallway, growing steadily louder. "I thank you for your wonderful lecture, Miss Testaross. No textbook could have done a better job."

"It's in here, gentleman." That was the Principal. She had returned, with a number of special guests in tow. Guests much different than Tessa. "Class, I'd like to welcome two welcome guests. Guests who have an important message, that fits in well with today's topic." She motioned with her arm, and two large mascots traipsed into the room. "We have Comu-chan…." That mascot was a large pink condom, and was the safe sex representative of Yohohama City. "…And Jimmy Hattori…." Sousuke had already seen the black-suited ninja with the pink condom headwear. "I know that their topic is usually covered in Health Class; but, this school is trying to be progressive and forward thinking, especially seeing how we are being philanthropic in hosting the telethon."

"We are here today to speak about a subject that has been given little attention in this country," Jimmy said. "We and a couple of… latecomers…."

"Yes," Comu added. "Sexual education. Japan has a complex relationship with the birds and the bees. Sex is everywhere, in gleefully commercialized form, from explicit _manga_ to love hotels, where rooms are rented by the hour. Some of these businesses involve young people: 'JK' services, for example, involve men paying schoolgirls to lie next to them or go for a walk… or more. Yet, in many respects, Japan is very conservative: sex remains a subject that parents and teachers are embarrassed to discuss." He stopped, seeing a raised hand. "Yes, young lady."

"Pardon me… uh… Miss." Mari thought the condom was a Miss; but, was uncertain about the voice of the actor. "Birds and Bees?"

"'The birds and the bees' is an English-language idiomatic expression and euphemism that refers to courtship and sexual intercourse," Comu replied.. "The 'birds and the bees talk' is generally the event in most children's lives in which they learn the truth about 'where babies come from.' The phrase is evocative of the metaphors and euphemisms often used to avoid speaking openly and technically about the subject."

"Right," Jimmy said. "According to tradition, the birds and the bees is a metaphorical story sometimes told to children in an attempt to explain the mechanics and good consequences of sexual intercourse through reference to easily observed natural events. For instance, bees carry and deposit pollen into flowers, a visible and easy-to-explain example of male fertilization. Another example, birds lay eggs, a similarly visible and easy-to-explain example of female ovulation."

"Here's an interesting fact!" Comu said. "Most male birds don't have penises."

"_Like Shinji,"_ Ono-D said, laughing.

"I see we have a boy who's uncomfortable about the subject matter," Jimmy said. "So, we should get straight to the point and-" The ninja condom didn't get to finish his sentence.

"Ninety-seven percent of bird species don't grow penises," Comu continued. "But why? A study that compared chickens…who don't have penises… with ducks whose penises are large and elaborately coiled…."

"_**Like Shinji."**_ That was a shocker. Shinji had said that.

"That's going to require a special condom," Jimmy said, before smacking himself in the head. "We should-"

"The study found that a sort of cell suicide… programmed cell death… is to blame," Comu continued. "Evolution comes down to reproductive fitness. So, it's remarkable that a group of animals would eliminate a structure that's so important for reproduction. A theory as to why birds lost their penises is that female birds may have preferred it, since, as 'The Scientist' journal put it, birds of this disposition 'are less capable of unwanted advances and thus give female birds more choice in which males father their young.'

"Where's the fun in that!" A sports boy called out.

"How the hell can they do the deed?!" Another sports lout blurted out.

"That's a story for another day," Jimmy said. "I-"

"Birds get romantic with a cloacal kiss," Comu replied. "For those birds without penises, mating takes the form of the cloacal kiss. The cloaca is an orifice found on the rear of both bird sexes. It serves a whole bunch of functions: pooping, peeing, egg-laying, and sperm ejection. When it's time to mate, the cloaca will swell. The male and female birds will then rub their swollen cloaca together, once the male hops atop the female and the female moves her tail out of the way. The ensuing 'kiss,' or sperm transfer, is… generally speaking… vanishingly brief.

"_Ugggg-ggg-gg-h!"_

"_**Yecccc-ccc-cc-ch!"**_

"Barf!" "Gag me with a spoon!" "That's not the way _I_ roll!"

The sports contingent was grossed out.

"**Righteous!"**

The girl with a fear of penises was all for it.

"**COMU!"** Jimmy raised his voice. "**KEEP**…** ON**… **COURSE**…." He paused, swiveling his costume towards the door. "Shit." That last utterance was barely audible. The reason for his displeasure soon made its way into the classroom. Or, at least made a series of rambunctious attempts.

"**Gloomy! Gloomy!"**

"_**Burble! Burble!"**_

The head host of the telethon was a savvy businessman. Not only was he planning a mascot battling league… which included not only Gloomy Bear, but also his current doorway rival Tarao, a hairy legged fish, mascot for Babel, an exhibition of renaissance art touring Japan… he had also struck a monetary deal with Jindai officials to rent the services of Jimmy and Comu. He had tossed in the other two mascots as living props. One put on a large spherical costume, dressed up to represent a human ovum. The other wore a long costume in the shape of a human spermatozoon. Each reproductive garb was worn over top of the original mascot suit.

"**HEY!"** Jimmy sounded more than a bit peeved. The topic was serious business. "**ONE**… **AT**… **A**… **TIME**…." When the two mascots kept trying to be the first one in, he said "Comu… pick one…."

"Wellll-lll-ll-l…" Comu looked at the door. "I will choose the Ovum. It's my job to protect against Mr. Sperm."

The Ovum strode proudly into the room, while the Sperm sulked at the door.

Another hand went up. "Teacher."

"Yes, Mayuko."

"Teacher," Mayuko said. "Why does the egg have claws?" Sure enough, Gloomy Bear's long claws were still attached. The makers of the Ovum suit had added quickly made makeshift claw covers; but, Hiroshi would have nothing to do with them. He tossed them off the moment that he was out of sight.

"Well… I…." Miss Katayama sounded as if she were at a loss.

"_Hmmmm-mmm-mm-m_…." Tessa piped up. "Maybe the claws are a corona radiata metaphor. When sperm are competing to enter an egg, the winning sperm will disperse the corona radiata with hyaluronidase carried in its acrosome, if it has the right swimming motion." She made a face. Tarao was ducking and bobbing as it walked towards Gloomy Bear, as if he were swimming. Gloomy's claws flashed out, barely missing Tarao, and slicing a hanging student project into tiny bits of styrofoam, yarn, and construction paper. Comu rushed to push back against 'Mr. Sperm.'

"Thank you, Miss Testarossa," the teacher said. "Brilliant as usual."

"Screw the claws," one sports guy said. "I'm more freaked out by the legs!" He was referring to Tarao's mascot legs. They were naked, very hairy, and ended in big sneakers. "I hope my sperm don't have legs."

"We were all hoping you didn't _have _sperm," a group of girls spoke up on cue.

"**EEEE-EEE-EE-E-NOUGH!"**

No one knew if the ninja condom's shout was meant for the squabbling mascots, the noisy boys, the responding girls, or the whole bunch of them.

"I apologize," Jimmy said. "If there is any further fighting, I suggest that the money will not be paid." He said that, his costume turned towards the other mascots. The actor then turned back to the class… cleared his throat… and said "On a recent talk show, a Japanese urologist was discussing the alarming rise in sexually transmitted diseases in this land. During his explanation, whenever he referred to the male sex organ, he called it by the childish word '_ochinchin_.' That reluctance to use grownup vocabulary when talking about sex is common in the media. The English word 'penis' is the preferred technical term when discussing male genitalia in Japan; but, even that seems to be taboo in broadcast situations. Sexual squeamishness is not unusual, but when _doctors_ avoid certain words, you know that the problem goes deeper."

"That's true," Comu said, interjecting. "Another guest was televised on that show. Let's call her Asuka. Asuka discovered that she was pregnant at the age of twenty, when she was a university student. Having had no courage to raise the baby alone… or to give up on her future plans… she decided to abort it. That's the dilemma that mostly women face… and the burden only women take on…." The pink condom scanned the class, her visage aimed at boy after boy. "Such a decision affects one's entire life… one way or the other…."

"Young people are taught that sex is a deviancy and brings risks, and that's all," Jimmy added. "School-based education in Japan is not designed to provide knowledge on how to deal with potential consequences. That's especially problematic, since teenagers in this country have few people they can turn to for advice. You should all realize this. Sexuality is a Japanese cultural taboo. A woman's role in society is submissive. These things may be improving as we speak… but, we have seen unsuccessful attempts at improvement before."

"Sousuke," Tessa said quietly to 'Kaname.' "I have been at the hospital lab, and did all that I could do. I really wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. You… not just Kaname Chidori's body."

"I am surviving," Sousuke replied, sitting straighter. "I am honored that you would be so concerned, Captain."

"Sousuke… it's Tessa… you _know_ that…." She tugged at her hair. "We're not on the submarine now, _right?" _She thought back to the time he had essentially blackmailed the Mithril Council, and had been allowed to stay at Jindai High. He had said that he viewed her more than a superior, and that she was a special girl. He had also called her Tessa for the first time.

"You are correct, C-… Tessa…." Souuske did not meet Tessa's eyes. "I am currently assigned ashore. While my charge is currently elsewhere, I seek to keep her life here at school safe as she so ordered."

"_Ooo-oo-o._ It's okay to be a student at school," Tessa said, a bit heated. "Whether you are a submarine Captain… or a… teenaged member of the SRT. There's nothing at risk currently." She whispered: "Except either my patience or my sanity!"

"One can never make assumptions about safety," Sousuke replied. "For example-"

"_Shhh-hh-h!"_ One girled shushed the conversing pair. "Do you two need to get a room?" Another girl asked.

"What's that?!" The actor inside the fish and under the sperm called out, having heard the last girl's comment. "Is something going on? Tarao don't mind him some girl on girl action!"

"**OOOO-OOO-OO-OPH!"**

Tarao's actor sucked in a lot of air, trying to hold in a deep moan. Gloomy Bear, snug within the egg, had lashed out with a powered-frame enhanced kick to the other mascot's groin area. After all, Hiroshi was a father, and he treasured his little girl.

Tessa made a face. It was like she had walked over this figurative road before, with just as little success. She fervently wished that she could order that muddle-headed military milquetoast into loving her; but, that was not possible or appropriate. Just the same, that shouldn't stop her from trying to win his attention, if not his heart, _right?_ She had heard Clouseau discussing manga and anime with someone aboard Da Danaan. One quote he mentioned was 'No matter how strongly you feel in your heart, if you don't convey it to another person, it's meaningless.' She thought of another one, too. 'In this world, not everything will be won by justice. If you want to win, you have to learn how to cheat." She needed another chance to confess her feelings for him. She had tried it when she was drunk, saying 'I love you.' But, Sousuke in that special way of his, had misunderstood what she meant; he had thought that she was professing a love of alcohol.

Kaname may have had first crack at Sousuke… and she had an unfair advantage in proximity… but, that didn't mean that she _owned_ him, right? And who's to say that she might not be better for him than a blue-haired girl with anger issues? She sighed. This sort of situation often seemed to be an uphill battle for anime characters, or so Clousdeau had once said. Worse, she could see Sousuke quoting something from Ichigo in 'Bleach': Unless I grip the sword, I cannot protect you. While gripping the sword, I cannot embrace you.' Big stupid head! Damn. That last thought had her sounding like Kaname.

"Mothers-" Jimmy continued. "-Who in most households are responsible for the children's education… usually avoid discussions about sex because they are uncertain how to respond… or simply think 'this isn't my child's problem'."

"But it goes beyond parents," Comu cut in again. "It's the government! The education ministry recently came under fire for supplementary materials it had distributed to high schools this summer. I understand that this school crumpled them up and tossed them in the trash. Bravo!" The condom bowed to Miss Katayama. "The materials were given out to help girls lead 'healthier lives,' but a chart about pregnancy included in the literature was found to be misleading. That chart purports to show how a woman's ability to conceive and bear children changes over time… and implies that after the age of twenty-two it becomes increasingly more difficult. But, experts say that the data used in the original chart was altered, since the survey cited can be double-checked online. The ministry said that the purpose of the chart was to 'convey scientifically correct data' to students; but, according to those experts, a woman's ability to conceive does not change significantly until about the age of _thirty-five_, and even then such findings must be qualified through the filter of cultural and individual circumstances."

Daidai raised her hand. After acknowledged, she asked "But why would the government do something like _that?"_

"We don't-" Jimmy couldn't get a word in.

"It's obvious," Comu said, voice rising in intensity. "The government wants young women to think that their chances of giving birth decreases after the age of twenty-two, because it wants them to have children as soon as possible. But regardless of the dishonesty of this tactic, the tactic itself represents a staggering lack of imagination. If young women really believe their chances of having a child lessens after their early twenties, they could very well give up having children altogether if they haven't found a suitable partner by that age. So, the idiots in charge essentially shot themselves in the foot! They refuse to provide young people with information that will help them make healthy choices about sex. All they care about is marriage and babies."

"Comu… your shoe is untied…" Jimmy gained control of the virtual pulpit again, his actor smiling. Comu wore large costume slippers. "The government's squeamishness about sex education is at the heart of today's problem. About ten years back, the education ministry instructed elementary and junior high school health class teachers to not discuss the process that leads to conception. In other words, they ordered schools to avoid talking about sexual intercourse. That directive has had two outcomes: Adolescents are not prepared for the pitfalls of sexual relationships, and they are afraid to ask about sex. They probably know enough about the mechanics of sex; but, they don't even realize that they should be asking about sexually transmitted diseases… the economic burden of having and raising a child… various forms of contraception and their relative benefits and drawbacks… abortion… and adoption. Some boys actually believe what they see in pornographic videos… not understanding that the the athleticism on display has nothing to do with reality."

As the condoms traded chances to speak to the class, the athletes had long since zoned out, and were naturally discussing sex in baseball terms.

"Yeh," one boy said, "What is second base, after all. Tongue kissing? Up the shirt? No one seems to know for sure"

"Let me tell you- " By that, the next boy meant 'my older brother has told me'. "-The bases get progressively more intense as you got older. So it's not that easy to describe clearly." How he wished that someone would describe it for _him _clearly!

"That's not the big thing," one boy said, thumbing himself in the chest, as if he were some Jedi sex master. "A lot of that is just old-fashioned. The way that I look at it, there are more than four stages in today's day and age of sex play. But, to bring you dweebs into line, I'll go over the ancient way first. First Base means kissing. But, someone whose name I won't mention-" He coughed the name, of course. "-Thought it meant holding hands. Some other retard thought that it was not just kissing, but was tongue kissing. Second Base has meant different things over time. Tongue kissing. Breast feeling. Outside the clothes genital contact. Third was a hand down the pants of you or your partner. And… Home Run… that has _always_ meant sex!"

"Sousuke," Tessa said, trying to be much more quiet this time. "What are you doing?" As she watched, Sousuke was furiously scribbling. Was he that interested in what the condoms had to say? _Good for him!_ It was rare to find a boy so interested in adult wisdom!

"I am taking notes," Sousuke replied. "It is difficult for me-" That was not because he was uncomfortable with the subject matter. "-Because the mascot is talking louder than the specialist." He scribbled, speaking the words as he wrote: 'Home run… that.. has always… meant sex.'

"-" Tessa was gobsmacked. "Sergeant Sagara," she said in a very authoritative tone of voice. She giggled when Sousuke sat up so fast, that he squeezed tight on his pen and it escaped his grasp like a greased pig. "That immature boy is _not_ the specialist… the two mascots are." She paused a moment, since that sentence sounded stupid in itself. "Don't you think it's nice that we can learn… _together_…." She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Yes, Captain!" Sousuke crumpled up his paper. "Your teaching was instructive to all of us." He tried to concentrate on what Jimmy was saying, and began writing on a clean sheet.

"I… am… right…_ here_…." Tessa said, immediately putting her hand over her mouth. She looked up. No one seemed to be glancing in her direction. Deciding to be a bit of a minx, she said: "You seem to be an eager student." She raised her voice. "Which do you prefer, the ribbed condom, or the smooth condom?"

"I prefer the smooth condom," Sousuke replied, meaning Jimmy. The boys and girls who heard his reply out of context began gossiping again.

"**SHHHHH-HHHH-HHHH-HHH-HH-H!"**

That was Miss Katayama this time. But, she wasn't calling out Tessa, who opened her mouth to apologize. She was shushing the whole class.

"Why don't you share what you are saying," Comu called out in challenge, even as Jimmy tried to shush the other condom. The pink mascot thought that the teacher had been shushing the chatty bunch of boys in the back. "Right! _You there!_ _**Big shot!"**_

"_Me?"_ The athlete who had been bragging stood up when Comu confirmed that she had been speaking to him. **"Alright!" **He didn't much care to talk to the students as a whole; but, he'd be damned if he was going to be shouted down by some pink rubber! "Me me me _meeee-eee-ee-e_." He bowed when the other athletes all cheered. "Baseball. All anyone needs to know. On Deck means having plans for a date. Strike-Out… duh! Walk… Kissing. Bunt… Masturbation. Single… Tongue kissing. Double… Breasts touched, some clothes off, lots of grabbing and feels. _Oh yeh!"_

Both Tessa and Sousuke had images of Kurz Weber. They each wished that there was a Melissa Mao there to bring swift judgment upon him.

"Triple," the boy continued. "Most of the clothes off, genital contact, mutual masturbation. Inside the park home run… Oral Sex. Home Run…SEX!"

"_OOO_" "_OOO_" "_OOO_" "_OOO_" "_OOO_… _OOO_ … _OOO_ … _OOO_ … _OOO_…." The boy athletes were all chanting.

"**Shut up, asshats!"** The boy at the lectern threw an erasable marker at one of his teammates. "I wasn't done yet. _Sheesh._ Little boys pretending to be men. Ground Rule Double… would have had sex, but no condom. Error… Condom breaks during sex. Banned for life for gambling… sex without a condom. Hall of Fame… Marriage. Balk… Premature ejaculation. Pine Tar…KY jelly. What do _you_ want, poindexter? Wanna know what KY jelly is? _Loser!"_

"No," Shinji said. "Pine tar." A lot of others chimed in.

"Pine tar is a sticky material produced by the high temperature carbonization of pine wood in anoxic conditions," Sousuke said. " Pine tar has long been used in Scandinavian nations as a preservative for wood which may be exposed to harsh conditions, such as ship decking and rigging, in merchant ships and military vessels."

"Who gives a fuck about _that,"_ one boy athlete asked. "If we guys don't want to hear that kind of shit from Sousuke sucking Sagara, we sure as shit don't want to sit and hear it from a stupid chick!"

"Pine tar is applied to the handles of baseball bats to improves a batter's grip," the boy at the lectern said before any of the girls could get in an angry reply. "Official rules of Major League Baseball' restricts application to the lower eighteen inches of a bat. That means that I would only get _half _covered! Heh heh heh heh."

"Hah." "Hah hah." "Hah." "Hah hah hah." "Hah hah." "Hah hah hah hah hahahahahah." The boy athletes were having a field day, so to speak.

"Quiet you apes," the boy said in a proud voice. "Back to the important stuff! Relief pitcher… Vibrator. Rain Delay… Parents or roommate return home unexpectedly. Box Seats… Waterbed. Seventh Inning Stretch… Unusual positions. Rookie… Virgin. Switch Hitter… Sex with her one night, and her brother the next. Minor Leagues… Under 18. Loaded Bases… Menage a trois. Grand Slam… Sex three times in twelve hours. Foul tip… VD. Three up and three down… Impotency."

"So…." One boy athlete ventured. "First I hit a triple… then we get an inside the park home run… and I started thinking it's Hall of Fame time!"

"No…." Another boy said. "So… there I was with the bases loaded and nobody out… when I balked during the seventh inning stretch… and I had to call in a relief pitcher." He slapped hands with the boy seated next to him."

"Sensei is proud," the boy at the lectern said, heading back to his seat.

"Thank you," Comu said calmly. "You just proved one of our points. The image of sex in the media is distorted and incomplete. The talk about sex amongst high school boys is even worse."

"Let me say something before you continue," Miss Katayama said. When Comu bowed, she claimed "The next student who says anything that interrupts our visitors will be asked to leave class. He or she will them be made to sit through an entire sexual education seminar… with his or her parents sitting with him or her!"

The boys in the back of the class grumped. In a show of defiance, they passed along a tape dispenser and put tape over their lips. Kyouko took a dozen or so snapshots. So did Jimmy, holding a camera up to his costume's eye hole.

"But since government policy creates a vacuum of useful information about sex, the media and other youths is young people's only source of information." Comu said. "The government's official position has been articulated by Liberal Democratic Party member Eriko Yamatani, who has made it her mission to oppose sex education in schools. In a famous debate, she blasted educational materials that mentioned male and female genitalia, calling the methodology 'radical.' The last Prime Minister agreed they were inappropriate and added wryly they were also unnecessary, since 'you tend to learn about these things naturally.' Other government officials claim that explicitness will 'destroys families' because youngsters will be disgusted to know that their parents engage in sex. There are those simpletons that think that talking about sexual education will cause more children to have sex. And… girls… you especially should learn this, even though it's important for boys, too: if the government wants people to marry as soon as possible and have babies, they should realize that those who marry very young usually don't remain married because they are not emotionally or sexually prepared. And… here's the kicker… such unions are reportedly more likely to lead to domestic violence and child abuse."

Jimmy took over speaking, but Tessa was no longer listening. She had had a proper sexual education course in America. There was also something else she had learned about: passing notes in class. While the condoms droned on… finally getting to the nuts and bolts of the talk… she put her knowledge into action. She wrote something on a small piece of paper… folded the paper… and then passed it over to Sousuke. It read: [WHAT BASE DO _YOU_ WANT TO GET TO?]

Sousuke's eyes grew wide as he read. He broke the tip on his pencil writing his note. It read: [UHHH-HH-H].

Tessa smiled. Sousuke was off balance. As she _knew_ he'd be. Her next note read: [ARE YOU STILL A VIRGIN?]. She watched Sousuke's face like a hawk. One, for the reaction. But also to try and read the truth.

Sousuke's reply read simply: [AFFIRMATIVE!].

Tessa giggled, and scribbled again, writing: [WANT TO KNOW IF _I _AM? *blushing emoji*]

Sousuke opened up the folded note and read it. He coughed. His reply was: [IF YOU COMMAND ME TO].

Tessa frowned. That one wasn't very fun. She needed to shake him up more. She wrote: [HAVE YOU EVER PICTURED ME NAKED?]

Sousuke slipped down his seat, almost banging Kaname's face on the desk top. He sat back properly, folded up a piece of paper, and handed it to Tessa. It was blank.

Tessa hummed happily to herself. That was quite the reaction. She wondered just what it might mean. His shields were down. Time for a photon torpedo or a shot from the Death Star. She wrote: [WHAT DO YOU THINK OUR CHILDREN WILL LOOK LIKE?]

Sousuke tore his next piece of paper in half before he could even write on it. There were sweat drops at his temple. 'His' eyes had a wild look in them.

Tessa struck while the iron was hot. The next note she handed to Sousuke read: [IF IT'S A BOY… SHOULD WE NAME IT RICHARD? *serious thinking emoji*] By that, she was plainly referring to Commander Mardukas.

Sousuke immediately stuck his arm up, after reading that last one. When the teacher gave him permission to speak, he asked if he could use the restroom. When he ran to leave the room, Tessa rubbed her hands together, happy in her little game. Sousuke returned a short while later, a glutton for punishment. He had hoped that the Captain would have grown interested in the mascot's talk in his planned absence. He should have known better. She handed him another folded piece of paper.

'I am a specialist!' he said to himself, unaware that Tessa was reading his lips. His tactical decision was to _not_ open the paper. She tapped on his desk and mouthed 'I am your commanding officer," watching a great deal many more sweat drops spring into being. She pointed at the paper.

Sousuke opened the paper, his hands trembling. The paper read: [WHEN I STOOD NEXT TO YOUR BODY AT THE HOPSPITAL, A LOT OF TECHNICIANS SAID WE LOOKED LIKE A GOOD COUPLE]. He flinched. He knew he had to respond. He had an epiphany. He now switched over to strategic thinking. Perhaps this would end the back-and-forth. He passed his paper to Tessa.

Tessa opened the note and read. Without thinking, she crumpled it up. It read: [THEY'RE SCIENTISTS. THEY KNOW EVRYTHING. DID YOU ASK THEM IF KANAME AND I WOULD LOOK BETTER TOGETHER? *curious emoji*]

Sousuke hoped that would not get him drummed from the mercenary service… or sentenced to the brig or prolonged KP service. To him, the color of the Captain's face was indescribable, and he was an expert on the color 'red,' as HAL2000 knew before being shut down.

Tessa had been through tough times. She had made amazing progress, just the same. Being Whispered wasn't the soul reason she sat at the helm of the most advanced undersea vessel in the world. So, woe betide her if she was going to abort the mission when a depth charge shook the boat a little. She wrote a bit longer this time: [I APOLOGIZE IF I UPSET YOU. IT TAKES A LOT TO SHAKE UP A SOLDIER AS STRONG AS YOU. THINGS MUST HAVE BEEN _REALLY_ TOUGH LATELY]

Sousuke read the note, sighing. Ever since the mind-body swap, his adrenalin had been pumped into his bloodstream at a record level. He wrote: [AFFIRMATIVE. NO DOUBT, KALININ WILL INSIST I TAKE LEAVE WHEN I AM BACK IN MY BODY]

Tessa smiled, like a cat sizing up a canary. In her best penmanship, she wrote [_GREAT!_ THEN I WILL HAVE HIM ASSIGN YOU AS MY GUARD, WHEN I GO TO THE ONSEN, AGAIN. JUST YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. NO MORE. NO LESS.]. She wrote a second note and passed it over simultaneously. It read: [THEY HAVE MIXED BATHING NOW, YOU KNOW! *thumbs up emoji*]

Sousuke read both notes. His body jerked. His knees struck the bottom of his desk with a resounding WHACK. That drew the attention of Miss Katayama. She started to walk in his direction. That had he and Tessa quickly putting all of the notes in their mouths, chewing to destroy the evidence.

"Are you okay, Kaname?" the teacher asked.

"_Iflml fmnl_," was supposed to be 'I'm fine.' GULLL-LL-L-P. Sousuke swallowed as best he could, managing to force the pulpy bolus down. His gulp was echoed by a second one, as Tessa had to try multiple times to swallow her portion. "Muscle spasm. Tough being an athlete."

Sousuke and Tessa sat looking like angels. After a moment of watching 'Kaname' to make certain that nothing was wrong, the teacher headed up front, just as Jimmy was wrapping up his gig with a reminder and a plea.

"Close to half of teachers at public-supported junior high schools in Tokyo say that education ministry curriculum guidelines on sex education are out of step with the times," the condom mascot claimed. "In contrast, a Tokyo metropolitan board of education study on sex education issues announced that almost half of respondents deem such discussions as unnecessary. Who do you believe? If your government will not fight for you… and your parents forgot that they were children once, and will not fight for you… than I urge you to fight for yourselves!"

After that, Jimmy said that a publication he did part-time work for was helping the cause by printing up free Sex Ed posters. Those would be sent to schools, and be put together as mailers to reach parents throughout Tokyo at first, and later throughout Japan. He wanted to pose with a student from this class. Comu would take pictures with that student as well, and there could be one taken of the Principal and the student.

"You should pick Kaname," one girl said. "She'd be perfect!" She made a motion, pantomiming a big belly.

"That's _right,"_ a boy said, rocking his arms as if he held a baby. Both motions were lost on Sousuke, but not on the mascots. They pushed chairs aside, after students vacated them. A professional camera crew came into the room and took a series of still shots, as Sousuke grew more irritated by the moment.

"It will make a good cautionary tale," Jimmy said. That too was Greek to Sousuke. He was glad when the camera crew, the Principal, and the four mascots left the classroom. He helped the other students rearrange the scattered chairs.

As Miss Katayama headed back to the lectern, and the overhead projector switched on again, Tessa risked one more strike. If she could blithely order cruise missile strikes against Russian or Amalgam research facilities, then she could hand Sousuke another note when the Sergeant was under surveillance. The note read: [DON'T WORRY! WHAT HAPPENS AT THE HOT SPRINGS, STAYS AT THE HOT SPRINGS! *smiley face emoji times three*].

After handing the note to Sousuke, she sat waiting, tapping her foot louder and louder until more and more students looked her way.

Seeing the class, reaction, Sousuke quickly opened the note, to stop the tapping. He calmly closed the note. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and held it. He held it for more than two minutes, letting it out slowly, before sucking in a big gulp of air quickly. Sousuke Sagara, Sergeant of Mithril, was impervious against many foes and the weapons that they used… but, he was woefully unarmed and unarmored when it came to flirtation and teasing.

"The production of eggs is called oogenesis," Miss Katayama said. It takes place in the ovaries and begins before birth. The outer layer of the ovary… the germinal epithelium… produces primary oocytes. It also produces follicle cells that congregate around the oocytes, forming a structure called the primary follicle." After that, Sousuke's mind was blank, unaware of the words being said, until the teacher reached the end of her Power Point presentation, ending with: "After about 38 weeks, labor begins and birth follows. Late in pregnancy, progesterone levels decrease and prostaglandins are produced. They stimulate contractions, which are strong, as oxytocin is no longer inhibited by high progesterone levels. After labor the baby is expelled. The umbilical cord is clamped and severed and sometime afterwards the placenta is also expelled. Due to the loss of the placenta, estrogen and progesterone levels fall, and prolactin is no longer inhibited so the breasts can produce milk. Oxytocin is released from the posterior pituitary gland, which forces milk out of the nipples."

Sousuke slowly made his way back to the land of the living, only to find out that the zombie apocalypse had _not_ ended. Tessa had handed him another note.

But, after reading it, he mouthed 'Thank you'. The note had read: [DON'T WORRY. I KEPT GOOD NOTES].

Tessa had fought the urge to add 'And I'll be glad to help you learn about sexual reproduction,' as that seemed way too suggestive for the game. And, she refrained from pushing her subordinate off the mental and emotional cliff by writing 'The only one onboard better at the subject is Commander Mardukas.'

"Well," Miss Katayama started. "It seems that we have some time left in class. That's a miracle. I _could_ let you go early." She too was not beyond teasing people. She had a firm gaze on the athlete boys, who had begun getting up from their chairs. "But, I _won't._ I'll tell you about something related. Something hot of the press." She smiled when she heard the boys groan. "It's food for thought."

The teacher told the class that scientists in Japan reported that they have taken a potentially important… and quite definitely controversial…step toward creating human eggs in a lab dish. "They turned human blood cells into stem cells, which they then transformed into very immature human eggs. The eggs were far too immature to be fertilized or make a baby. Much more research is needed to create eggs that could be useful … and safe…for human reproduction; but, those studies are underway. The resultant techniques might someday help millions of people suffering from infertility because of cancer treatments or other reasons."

"But there would have to be countless societal and ethical issues," Rumiko said. "Wouldn't there? I mean… they could mass produce eggs…."

"Yes indeed," Miss Katayama replied. "Wrap your brains around _this._ Theoretically, babies someday could be made from the blood, hair or skin cells of children, grandmothers, even deceased people. So there are some very weird possibilities that might emerge in the not too distant future."

'People could make babies from cells stolen from unwitting celebrities," Tomomi said with a gasp. She was a big tabloid and television talk show fan. "People could collect skin cells left behind on a soda can or…"

"Hair follicles from hair clipped at a salon," Maya added.

"A woman might want to have Jin Akanishi baby," Shiori said. "And his hairdresser could start selling that star's hair follicles online. So, we suddenly could see many, many progeny of Jin Akanishi without his consent."

"That's scarier than 'Planet of the Apes'," Kyouko said. That was one of the films she had downloaded for weekend viewing.

"That's almost as scary as Planet of the Sagaras!" Ono-D said.

"Worse," a girl said. "Planet of the Sagaras against Planet of the Chidoris!"

"I shudder to think," a boy said. "Planet of the Sagaras against Empire of the Chidoris through a black hole into the Galaxy of the Never-ending Halisens!"

"Now_ that_ would be Ragnarok," Shinji claimed. "On a universal scale."

"Settle down, please." Miss Katayama said. "For years, scientists have been trying to make eggs and sperm from stem cells. This year, Mitinori Saitou at Kyoto University and his colleagues reported they produced mature mouse eggs and sperm from stem cells, and used them to breed healthy mouse pups. First, the scientists used a well-established method to turn adult human blood cells into induced pluripotent stem cells, which have the ability to become any cell in the body. But the key, apparently, was putting the induced human pluripotent stem cells into miniature ovaries they created in the lab from mouse embryonic cells, where those stem cells turned into immature mouse egg cells. So, the next step will be to try to make mature human eggs and produce human sperm this way. It's the beginning of a paradigm change. In addition to helping infertile people, such a development could enable gay couples to have babies with sperm and eggs made from their own skin cells. Easy access to eggs might mean it would become routine to scan the DNA of embryos before anyone tries to have a baby. Doing genetic testing basically on a large chunk of every generation of babies before they even become fetuses … while they're still embryos … and having parents and potentially governments pick and choose which embryos go on to become babies…_that_ has lots of implications."

"And If we can't trust the government to teach us about sex ed-" Mayuko said.

"-How can we trust them to pick which embryos to use," one boy finished. It was a sobering thought. Just what might Hitler, Stalin, or Mao Zedong have done with that technology. Who was to say that future leaders might not be worse monsters than that trio?

"**Oh my!"** Tessa sat up straight.

"_Captain, what is it!"_ Sousuke looked around for a threat. The look on Tessa's face was one of great concern.

"I hope that there isn't any Black Technology for something like _that!"_

"Affirmative,"Sousuke said, mentally standing down.

That should have been the end of it. In a perfect world, a land of happy sitcoms and Hallmark cards, it _would_ have been. But, Tessa's mind couldn't help but wander back to a certain day. Kurz had asked her 'Can the Whispered call up whatever Black Technology they want?' When Tessa then asked why, Kurz said 'I can't help but wonder what types of sex toys they have plans for!'

"_Captain!"_ Sousuke looked concerned again. "Tessa. Your face. Should I take you to the school nurse?"

"**No!"** Tessa said. "_Shhh_. Quiet. Nothing more. That's an order!"

The young Captain wished that she had a helpful memory, like one where Melissa had come to her rescue, crushing Sergeant Weber like one of her empty beer cans. That hadn't happened. Instead, Mao had added fuel to the fire.

Pulling out a wallet, Mao had taken out a handful of twenties, and slammed them down hard on the table. 'Count me in!'

"Oh, Melissa," Tessa whispered.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**SCHOOL CLEAN-UP**

_Sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep sweep_

Sousuke swept the broom back and forth smoothly, dexterous in such a simple and ancient task. A good many other second year students were working in the girl's shower room, having chosen to clean that before they got to the smaller restrooms. First years had been given the daunting task of cleaning the Boy's locker and shower rooms. Third years were excused from clean-up duties.

_**Burrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-r-ppppp-pppp-ppp-pp-p**_

This time, Sousuke tasted plain white paper and pen ink.

"Here," one girl said kindly. "Maybe I should do that for you." She held out a hand, hoping that 'she' would give her the broom.

"It is not a problem," Sousuke said. "Thank you. But… I am fine…." That was the fifth person who had offered to take over the sweeping duties. Were the other tasks so daunting, that they looked to escape them? Or, did he somehow look unwell? Stepping over to the mirror, he looked-over Kaname's body.

"Don't worry," another girl said. "It really isn't showing that much yet. It probably didn't show up in your school photo."

"-" Sousuke had no idea how to reply to that. _What _was not showing? It didn't matter, whatever it was. He had never had 'his' photo taken. He put his hand on his abdomen. Good! He felt less bloated.

He watched as Tessa walked his way, a big smile on her face. Just as she opened her mouth to speak to him, she was corralled by a gaggle of giggling and gossiping girls, and hurriedly herded away. They went from zero to sixty words a minute in under five seconds.

"Hey! Kana-chan." Kyouko walked up, other friends with her. "We just want to say that we know you're not in trouble." Maya, Shiori, Tomomi, Rumiko, and Mayuko all nodded their heads, before walking away.

"_Trouble?"_ Sousuke wondered what they meant. He had done plenty of things that day, which could have him end up in the Principal's office, or even have him get the boot without any further discussion. But, no sense worrying about it.

Looking around the shower area, he saw those girls making intermittent efforts to clean the shower stalls in between their cheerful chatting. A smaller group of girls worked on cleaning the sinks, and would mop the floor after he finished with the broom work. Nerdy and non-conformist boys were working on the toilets, as the sports guys leaned against the wall, jawing, occasionally tossing in a new threat or two to make sure the toilets would get done without their pitching in. Shinji was the lone non-athlete exception. He stood in the corner nearest the athletes, looking a bit off of his feed. He had been made exempt from toilet duty by the bullies.

"Hey… ummm… Tessa…." One girl sounded sheepish. "You… well… you know everything. If my significant other and I just have oral sex, I can't get pregnant, right?"

"That-" Tessa looked over to see if Sousuke was watching. He was. She turned bright red, coughed, and struck a fierce pose, as if she were about to order a combat maneuver.

"Uhhh." Sousuke froze. He didn't know why, exactly. Yes, he was clueless. He admitted it. But, he had heard so much worse from Kurz, Mao, and many adult mercenaries, not to mention the women they hung around. He tried to focus on his sweeping, hands feeling a bit clammy. When he was reading the magazine he had commandeered from Kaname's apartment, he always skipped over the sections that discussed teen sex subjects.

"You-" Tessa coughed again. "You can't get pregnant from oral or anal sex alone. For people to get pregnant, sperm has to get into a vagina…and eventually up through the cervix into the uterus… just like we heard today. That can't happen physically with oral or anal sex. _However_, if a couple has anal sex and some of the sperm ends up near the opening to the vagina, there is a chance she could get pregnant. Although you can't get pregnant from oral and anal sex, you can still get STDs like herpes and HIV. I'm certain those mascots would tell you, if you're having oral or anal sex, always use a condom."

"Everyone says that sex is fun and that it feels good," another girl stated. "I'm a virgin and curious. Tessa… is that really true?"

"I'm not-" Tessa began. She said a small prayer of thanks when someone answered for her. But, she was going to say "I'm not able to answer that." Leaving it hanging like that had some thinking she meant 'I'm not a virgin.'

"Come on! Tessa is a guest today." One of the few girls with experience spoke up. "We can't make her answer every question. Sex can be fun and feel good, but it's not true that sex just 'feels good' across the board in any situation. It's impossible to separate the act of sex from the person you're doing it with… or the person you are. Because if you're not _really _ready to be having sex, or you're doing it in the wrong relationship or with the wrong person, you'll be worrying about it way too much to enjoy it. But if you feel totally comfortable and cared about, and sex is something that you truly feel ready for, then yes… it _can _be an amazing experience."

"Sweep, soldier." Sousuke ordered himself to maintain focus. He felt a bit awkward, seeing that _he _was still a virgin. If he had been a simple highschool boy, he wouldn't be a bit concerned. But, amongst military types, he was always the odd man out. Regardless, he _should _be more curious, shouldn't he? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to listen a bit.

Listening to the girls, he failed to hear the sexually charged and spiteful things that the sports boys were now spewing.

"How painful is sex the first time?" That was Shiori. "Just for future reference. I don't even have a boyfriend, now."

"It varies," another experienced girl replied. "For some girls, there's no pain whatsoever; for others, sex can be uncomfortable. Some girls feel discomfort when the hymen stretches or tears, which can cause a little bleeding. Sometimes a girl may not be aroused… or she's feeling nervous…. so her vagina isn't lubricated enough for a comfortable experience. Lubricated condoms can help. Sometimes it'll be uncomfortable for the first few tries, and then it will start to feel better. In general, though, if you're experiencing a lot of pain during sex, talk to a doctor or the school nurse."

"Lubricated…." Tessa tugged her hair too hard and grimaced. She sneaked a peak at Sousuke again, somehow feeling guilty in doing so. She too was a virgin.

"How do you know when you're really ready to have sex?" That was Maya. "I'm… well… future reference here, too…."

"Tessa?" One girl looked to see if Tessa would share her knowledge.

"We should ask Kaname, _shouldn't_ we…." Mizuki put in, somehow feeling superior, being a virgin still. "I mean… after all…."

Sousuke began sweeping faster and put distance between him and the gabby girls. Boys and girls tidying up towels and laundry baskets told her to relax, and not feel embarrassed or picked on. Some, again, commented on his condition. That was becoming onerous. Onerous, and unnerving. He had swept his way into earshot again.

"Sex is very intimate," one experienced girl noted. "It's not just physical, it can be emotional too. It's normal for teens to have strong sexual feelings, but it doesn't always mean you have to act on them. You can feel physically ready for sex but not be in the right relationship for any number of reasons. Because having sex can be so emotionally powerful, it's easy to get hurt. Sex is only part of a relationship. Other important things… like trust, mutual respect, and caring… need to be in place too. Finally, for all its magic, sex can have a downside, such as an unplanned pregnancy or sexually transmitted diseases, right? Oh-" She looked over at Kaname, biting her lip.

Sousuke felt caught in a quandary. Biology class. Human reproduction and Sexual Education. Girls talking about sexual matters openly like that. As best he tried, he could not ignore the eight-hundred pound gorilla in the room. It was all well and good, learning what he did, as a mental male. But, he was a physical female. He started to look at the ring; but, he turned it on his finger so that he couldn't see the color. It wasn't a watched pot, and he wasn't superstitious. He didn't want to worry any more than he was now. He had spent class thinking like a boy; but, he _should_ also think things through from a girl's view. There was still a chance that he would end up trapped in Kaname's body. And, if he was fortunate to return to his own body, it would be practical to know how girls felt about sex, _wouldn't_ it? An informed bodyguard is a more effective bodyguard.

"My boyfriend is pressuring me to have sex," Mari said, shocking some people. She never told anyone about a boyfriend. "How do I know if he is just using me?"

"Sometimes in relationships one person is ready to have sex but the other isn't," one girl stated. "That can be stressful… I know that, alright…you don't want to compromise what you're not ready for or what you believe. You need to do what is right for _you_. Anyone who tries to pressure you into having sex isn't really thinking about what matters most to you. People who pressure others into having sex are only looking to satisfy their own feelings and urges about sex."

"That's right," one of the other experienced girls added. "If you feel pressure to have sex because you're afraid of losing your boyfriend, it may be a sign that you're not in the right relationship. Sex isn't something you should feel you must do. Relationships are meant to be fun for _both_ people. They should make you feel appreciated, respected, and supported, not pressured or uncomfortable. If your boyfriend truly cares about you, he won't pressure you to do something you don't believe in or aren't ready for. So talk with your boyfriend about how you feel. If he's the right guy for you, he'll understand."

Sousuke tried to store that information away. But, he began fighting a growing sense of paranoia. He felt as if everyone in the room was looking at him, since so many people were coming up to speak with him. Did these students often come over to converse with Kaname, or were they clued into something? Somehow, he felt as if everyone there must know his secret, even though that was impossible. Only two people in the school knew his secret, and he doubted that Tessa would share classified information.

"I keep waiting for the stick to strike," Sousuke murmured, thinking back to Falstaff again. No, nobody likely knew his secret. But, that didn't mean that Fate wasn't winding up to throw a pitch at his head, or smack him with an over-sized bat. He overheard Tessa saying something, but had missed the question, and couldn't make out her words. Just the same, the sound of her voice had him feeling edgy. Somehow, in Kaname's body, he felt less oblivious than usual, even though that was probably an illusion. The Captain's teasing was her way of having fun at his expense, of course; but, he gathered that there might be more to it than that. She was attracted to him… well… the usual male him. And, she must want him to pay more attention to her, in preparation for his return.

The athlete boys were getting louder, more vocal, and more demeaning in their jeers and crude talk. They were also getting more specific in their joking and their jibes. But, Sousuke was too distracted to pay them much heed.

"Is it better to shave off all your pubic hair or to keep most of it and trim it?" Having heard that question, asked by one of the garrulous girls, Sousuke decided he needed to sweep an area he had already gone over. Doing anything else would seem like eavesdropping. And, for some reason, his ears were ringing.

He belched again. Tasting paper again, he thought back to the note-passing he and Tessa had done. It had certainly caught him off guard. He almost felt as if they were a flare, shot into the sky to illuminate things that were currently too dark to see. As a soldier, it was his job to see things clearly, and not to turn his sight away from the target. He forced himself to think harder on things, and to be honest. If he was not a soldier, he would like a girlfriend. If he had a girlfriend, we would want to get to whatever base that girl would want to get to. And, if he was attracted to a girl, he would no doubt think about seeing her naked, at least on some level. He had seen pornographic magazines before. There was certainly a magnetic pull between his eyes and any given centerfold's body. Like pornographic videos, that wasn't real to him. That had never felt personal.

He couldn't help but bring-up an image of Kaname's naked body. Strangely enough, it did not excite him. Was that because he had seen Kaname's body in the mirror that way? Was his sense of attraction merely a puppy love kind of thing? Was he a eunuch, in a personal and professional way? Or, was it wrong to expect any kind of reaction, standing here sweeping?

"Hot springs," Sousuke murmured, recalling Tessa's notes on that subject. Would his reaction be any different, if he was alone at the onsen with either girl? He fantasized, and found out that his heart skipped a beat when he pictured either girl slipping slowly out of her blouse and skirt, revealing a bathing suit underneath… spending time close to him in the warm moonlit water… and watching the girl slowly remove the bathing suit. "That… it…" Normally, the mental imagery would cease there, immediately. Not this time. He had accepted the assignment. No turning back, now. The truest attraction was not just being with a naked girl… it was being with a naked girl who cared about him, and wanted to be naked with him.

"Wanting to be naked…." Sousuke thought back to another escapade, it's memory still somewhat fresh. He had ordered a special gunsight from Bedard at Brilliant Safetech, and he had sent a strange cannister instead. Ono-D, tongue on fire from a flaming hot curry bun, opened the container, thinking it a water bottle. There was a pathogen inside, one Sousuke originally thought must be a deadly virus. Instead, it was a bacterium that could break down petroleum products. Sousuke had brought Kaname to the Infirmary, and had talked her into taking off her clothing for practical purposes. She had been naked behind the curtains when he received the final explanation from Beard. That by itself was a curiosity. She had indeed disrobed. But, it was the way that she had responded to his request that had him tied up in mental knots, now.

If Tessa had intended to have Sousuke think more about her, then her actions had backfired. He had indeed taken a step forward… but then two steps back. Biology class… girl talk… notes… something had him thinking about Kaname in ways that he never had before. No. In ways he never allowed himself to think, or quickly stamped out if he even began to think. He wondered how Kaname was doing, stranded at the hospital. He wished that he could share that burden with her. He had left her behind once, at the order of his superiors, and the sting of self recrimination still had the power to make him uncomfortable today.

"The haircut," he said to himself. After a bad reaction in a barber shop, he had gone back to Kaname's home, and she had cut his hair. It had been a revelation of sorts. He had trusted her not to cut of his ears. He had been made uneasy somehow, by her gentle touch. He had been unnerved more by a close view of her cleavage. In some strange way, the world had come into clearer focus for him, after that. But, whatever insights he had been on the edge of grasping had been blown away by a typhoon of shock and anger. Mithril higher ups had ordered him to stop all contact with Kaname, because he was too crucial an asset to place in a high school; after all, he was the only one able to pilot Arbalest, Mithril's sole Lambda Driver equipped AS. His hurt grew more substantial when Gauron on his deathbed claimed that she was dead. He gave up on fighting, and caring. He gave up on life. But, she came for him, all the way to Hong Kong. "She said she came because she was class rep." And, and because he was in danger of being expelled. He hadn't truly doubted her motives. Maybe it was he was too busy being beaten to a pulp by her. "She cried when I came back to school, reassigned. She leaned against me. I... I almost..." He had come close to holding her.

For some reason, his thoughts travelled further back. The sun was setting. He stood near a lake with a spraying fountain. There was a woman with him, a woman that he had failed to recognize at first. It was Kaname, in her mother's kimono. And, she had been trying to get him to say that she was beautiful.

Someone in the boiler room next door was playing music now. Playing music loudly. It was easy to hear the words through the shower room wall. The singer sounded like Mikuni Shimokawa. That song, it must be 'Tomorrow.'

_Because tenderness is sometimes cruel_

_The more I search for an answer, the more I lose sight of it_

_If you can see a rainbow in town after a rain_

_Let's start walking now_

_Something is about to begin_

_Because I have you_

_Because I have tomorrow_

_Because I can't go on living by myself_

_I feel it this close_

_I guess it's love_

_Because you know the pain of all the tears I've shed_

_I want to search for a definite meaning in your clear eyes_

_And find a smiling face_

Sousuke had closed his eyes, without realizing it. He felt a sense of peace, not knowing why. He pictured seagulls flying. He felt free. He felt a sense of anticipation, as if he were about to be launched in an A.S. from Da Danaan, clutching the broom handle as if it were the control stick in Arbalest. His mind went back to the past, thinking about the more pleasant moments in his life as a Mithril pilot. He felt nostalgic, thinking about his preparation for coming to Jindai High… about Kurz and Mao squabbling over canned crab… about Eri taking away his submachine gun… about getting to know Kaname.

He was close to zoning out completely, and even missed the conversation that took place just outside the door of the shower room:

"I must commend you for selfless acts of philanthropy," a voice said. It was Atsunobu Hayashimizu. "The telethon is over, and I will be sad to see such distinguished thespians depart our humble premises".

The Student Council President was speaking to Domo-kun, with his gaping maw, and Kumamon, with his rosy red cheeks. Unable to walk abreast in the hallway, the two mascots walked single-file behind the bespectacled boy, who opened and closed his fan. The sound of _thwop thwop thwop thwop_ signaled the approach of the tardy Hikonyan, with the huge white cat still wearing the same type of samurai helmet that can be seen at the Hikone Castle Museum.

"But," Atsunobu continued. "Since we have theatrical club presentations in the future… and will be continuing with our outreach program for Tokyo orphans and underprivileged youths… perhaps we can purchase the used of your tantalizing talents once again."

"That would be wonderful," the actor for Domo-kun said. He then added unexpectedly, the words from an internet meme that resembled a public service announcement and depicted two Domos chasing a kitten: "Every time you masturbate... God kills a kitten."

"Yes, that would be a great thing," the actor for Kumamon added. "Why? For the glory of Satan, of course!" That came from a famous meme, prompted by a two-panel comic of the mascot standing in front of a bonfire.

"I… I just need…." The actor for Hikonyan's voice went up an octave. "I just need to get the fuck out of this thing and _pee!"_

"Splendid," Atsonubo said elegantly. "Your consent is music to my ears." After that they were out of earshot.

"Are you okay, Sousuke." It was Tessa. She was standing there, an impish look on her face when he opened 'his' eyes. "The girl's wanted you to answer one of their questions." She pinked up some, but didn't look the slightest bit put off or embarrassed. "Let me see. What were the words." The voice she used. It was that same style of speech. The one she used when she pretended to be a ditz, not long after Kaname had seen her for the first time, dressed in nothing more than a towel. "If I have sex with a girl, am I technically losing my virginity?"

"**Gah!"** Sousuke dropped the broom. "That… I am honored Captain… but I don't think Kaname…." Of course, he had taken things too literally.

"_Geez,"_ Tessa shook her head. How did Kaname deal with this all of the time? "I was just teasing you. I don't want Kaname. I want _you_…." This time she did look shocked, almost as if she wished she could shrink in size and escape down the shower drain. "I mean… another girl answered the question. She gave an answer. Ummm… she well… the girl said 'Virginity is a fraught topic because of how differently it's handled when it comes to guys and girls. Guys are encouraged to get their virginity over with, that they won't be good when they first start having sex and that's OK because it's a process, etc. Meanwhile, girls are told that virginity is a gift that you need to hold onto, that it's some kind of commodity and that you're losing something once you have sex for the first time. Virginity is yours and yours alone, and you choose what to do with it. Sex is about intense intimacy with another human being, so you can lose your virginity a number of ways.' That is… you know… or maybe you don't know…." She was not the calm and cool boat's Captain right then and there.

"**Thank you for that informative instruction!"** Sousuke said, eyes blinking rapidly.

"_Ummm,"_ Tessa said, regaining her pluck. "Do you know what I really would like?" She wanted to say, 'My birthday comes up in a few months, and I really wish we could do something. You know, like dinner. Or dancing. Or maybe a trip on a cruise ship.' But, even though she was a firm believer in the anime quote 'After all, love is about timing… if you don't say the right thing at the right moment no matter how much Fate is involved, everything will ne ruined. It'll be too late,' saying something like that might scare Sousuke off, after that last slip.

"Captain?" Sousuke had been caught off guard by the slip. But, that wasn't all. He had pictured Kaname glaring at him.

"Tonight… after school…." Tessa tugged at her hair. This wasn't just a verbal diversion. As she thought about it, she actually _would_ like it to happen. "We could do a sleepover. We could paint each others finger nails and toenails…." The Whispered girl was plotting, like with a complicated mission. She figured if she shocked Sousuke with girly things, he might accept a chance to spend time together when she 'relented' and agreed to do only simple gender-free things that friends might do.

"Uh." Sousuke stood stiff.

"Then, we could talk about the boys and girls we like," Tessa said, feeling impish again. But, she was caught upon her own petard, for the obvious reason. True to her very nature, she almost tripped over nothing.

"Uhhhh." Sousuke knew that she was teasing. That didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat.

"And then-" Tessa prepared to lower the boom. After girl talk had veered away from sex-issues, it had veered onto the topic of daily events. A large number of drastic and dramatic daily events. There was a pregnant pause.

"Captain?" Sousuke asked. "Tessa?" He has a strong sense of foreboding.

"We could talk about current events," Tessa replied. "You know, like a striking speech. Black hair dye. Exploding bowels and bladders, not to mention bellies. The upcoming Math Day at the Tokyo Dome. Fights with serial killers. Chainsaws. Yankis. Comedy routines. Bonta-kun versus Gloomy Bear. Dance fighting, ballroom style. Angry Amalgam agents. Dates. Girls running around outside in towels. Exploding testicles. Dog Day Afternoon. Robots run amok. Knife fight training in Home Economics. Just to name a few…."

"I-" Sousuke felt as if his heart stopped beating altogether. "That-" Reality came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Tessa knew. That meant that Kaname would know. Great Caesar's ghost! "Those can be explained-" Tessa wasn't about to blackmail him in some way, _was _she?

"But wait! There's more!" Tessa sounded like someone on a game show or an informercial. She held up her cell phone. On the way over from the Neurological Center, she had downloaded local news coverage from different online sites. She held up the phone and showed video after video. "A gang called the Monks, wimpering as they talked about being attacked by a blue-hair demon. A blue haired girl helping a boy get his cat down from danger… with a potato cannon! A crazy police chase though a busy business district. A subsequent police car and train collision. A fight between a motorcycle gang and the same policewoman, aided and abetted by a man with that chainsaw. Newsfeed covering the Jindai marching band and a marauding mechanical menace."

Sousuke didn't say a thing. Kaname's face was a blank as an uncarved tombstone.

"Don't worry, Sousuke." Tessa said kindly, feeling bad about teasing him. Just the same, facts were facts, and photos are photos. The bill would come due soon enough. "I won't tell Kaname before you have a chance to. You have protected me a number of times in the past. This way, I can protect you too. But, we work for Mithril, not the MIB. Black Technology has helped us create a lot of amazing gadgets; but, I'm afraid memory-erasing neuralyzers are not among them."

"Yes," Sousuke said sadly. "I know." He looked at Tessa, but he pictured Kaname. That image of her, happy in her kimono, faded. The image he imaged now was anything but happy.

"Any how, spending time together tonight really _could_ be fun," Tessa said. "Oh! I'm sorry. How could I forget. It would be best that you are back in your _own_ body tonight, since the sands in the hourglass are getting low." She sighed, but then grinned again. "But... even if you are a boy... we could _still_ do each other's nails and-" Her teasing was interrupted by her phone. The two Mithril members recognized that particular ringtone: an emergency message incoming, from Headquarters. "Hello… yes… I see… I understand… goodbye." Tessa sighed, a stern look on her face, all hope for a 'girl's night' dashed before they ever really took flight. "I have to head back to Da Danaan. We were somehow fortunate to get video feed of a massive aircraft that's not present on radar, not even the metric or quantum types. It's on a path for Tokyo. I'm needed on board."

"The type of craft?" Sousuke asked.

"Unknown," Tessa said. "We have never seen the likes before, I'm told. It's not in our files. But… on the nose…." She shook her head. No sense in supposition. "Hopefully it will veer off. In any case, I doubt it's filled with angry photographers… hormonal dogs… or a robot intelligence bent on the destruction of mankind."

After stating that someone would be in contact when they learned more, Tessa took her leave.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**FINAL HOME ROOM**

There was a message on the chalk board in Home Room.

Eri would not be able to supervise the class. There was a special teacher's meeting, to go over the strange series of events that had taken place that day. School safety was paramount.

As Class Representative, Sousuke knew that Kaname would take charge, and set things in motion. He walked to the front of the class, but had no contingency plan in mind. It was only a fifteen minute period, and he didn't think that there was anything the class truly needed to discuss amongst themselves, at least not with his guiding hand.

"If there is anything you wish to discuss," he told the students. "Please feel free to do so on your own." He sat down at his desk, and shrugged off a few conversations. Kyouko, Maya, Shiori, and the others looked at each other… nodded their heads… and went off to speak without 'Kaname.' Most everyone else in the class respected 'her' space, too.

Sousuke knew that Kaname had softball after school. He had heard someone say that all of the different sports were splitting their squads and having scrimmages today, including the softball team. What should he do? He had Kaname's body, but not her reflexes, knowledge of the game, or familiarity with her teammate's contributions to the squad.

"I will have someone else lead things," he said to himself. "It will be simple enough to come up with an excuse." He closed his eyes, only for a moment, he thought. But that moment stretched on an on, as he dozed briefly. Images and faces spun about him, like the planets orbiting the sun.

At one point, the images in his mind began streaming one after the other vertically, like he was viewing a filmstrip of his recent life, the way that Grim Reapers did with the cinematic records of the deceased in 'Black Butler.' A bit choppily, he relived portions of a conversation with Dr. Goldberry aboard the TDD-1, after she had discussed the topic of traumatic brain injury:

_*"This mind transfer event is new ground," Peggy said. "Unstable ground. So, I cannot tell you how your thoughts and actions might change… if they change at all… seeing that the underlying brain structure is Miss Chidori's… but the thinking patterns and memories… the will and the judgment… are yours. Will her structure change your patterns? Will your habits imprint on her tissue? Will you carry any of her back with you, when you end up… hopefully… in your own body? This is so fresh, that I can't even think of all of the pertinent questions to ask."*_

The images and sounds skipped ahead a bit, after strange flashes of light blanked sections of his memory, and a strange static sound filled his mind. He had been on the verge of regaining full consciousness.

_*"Well, Sousuke… I'm certain you must have noticed this…." Dr. Goldberry had said, after discussing traumatic brain injury with him. "It's no secret that boys and girls are different,,, very different. The differences between genders, however, extend beyond what the eye can see. Research reveals over one hundred major differences between male and female brains."_

"_Kaname once joked that the difference is that she has a brain," Sousuke said. "And I have a control center. One which is usually out of control. Or, out of order."_

"_I see." Peggy had chuckled. "She sometimes thinks you are like a machine or a robot, does she? I hope she realizes that a strict adherence to orders is not the same thing as having no feelings or emotions. I hope you realize that, too. You were raised in a very different situation… with different demands and different needs… and sometimes it can take a long time to change."*_

Images of completely different events transposed themselves on the streaming mental film. His shooting a potato gun to save a cat. His firing a 9M14 Malyutka ATGM to save some freedom fighters. Watching 'Night of the Lepus'. Seeing a large rabbit costume in the Home Economics room. Pedaling fast ahead of a shark-like Nissan police cruiser. Fighting a tiger shark, dagger in hand. Searching for buried mines with a dagger. His mujahedeen foster father handing him his first dagger. Then, as abruptly as it had been supplanted, the previous memory film picked up again from where it had left off:

_*"It might be simpler if I were a machine," Sousuke mused. "Then, if faulty, my brain could be switched out and…." He frowned. That thought was a bit jarring, given the recent accident. "Well… I could be programmed to be the way that Kaname wants me to be…."_

"_Hmmm-mm-m." The doctor said. "As self-deprecating a that thought was, it did at least show that you want to make Kaname happy. You don't view her as just another mission. But… remember this… relationships are a two-way street. Give and take. Perseverance and patience. Teaching and learning. Selfishness and sharing. "*_

Sousuke felt his head slump forward abruptly, prompting him to wake fully. He sat up straighter, pretending as if he had never ventured into the twilight realm of thoughts and dreams, somehow concerned that the others in the room might realize that he had dozed off..

Dr. Goldberry had gone on to explain some of the differences between male and female brains, and had mentioned some of the resultant tendencies associated with those differences.

Men take a more fact-based approach to their environment, often scanning for threats and challenges. Women tend to take a more intuitive approach because they perceive people and events more deeply and with greater memory capacity. Men tend to converge in their thinking. They define and clarify the problem and begin by eliminating and isolating issues. Women often will define the problem in broader terms and examine a wider array of potential factors before going into solution mode. Men tend to depersonalize and externalize issues or problems, giving them time to think through solutions, often in solitude. Women tend to personalize and are more inclined to talk through the issue to reach understanding. Men's brains gravitate toward facts and logic, while women's brains are geared toward intuition and emotion.

"Neither of these approaches is right or wrong," Sousuke admitted to himself, somehow feeling as if his situation allowed him to serve as referee. "But, they are different. Different is good! That's why forward-thinking militaries… and businesses, I suppose… want to have both men and women on teams, to leverage each other's strengths."

Men have more mental processing power for threats, and women have more processing power for details. Women often will include more details in their decision making, and they'll verbalize those details during meetings or in conversations. This often is misinterpreted by male peers to mean that women's deliberations take more time, when they actually do not.

"In planning sessions, we benefit from the Captain's ability to think through details. Commander Mardukas allows her time to verbalize and explain her rationale," Sousuke said. "The Commander and Lieutenant Commander are great in a crisis. They constantly are scanning for potential threats and then solutions. The Captain relies on them in times of need."

Women also seemed to bounce back and forth between feelings and facts very easily. Men like to think in steps, processing one fact at a time. In other words, men think in straight lines, whereas women think in webs, constantly connecting ideas. Do you need to get focused on a project or get working on a deadline? Look to a man. Do you need to think 'big picture' and think through potential eventualities? Look to a woman. Of course, these are all generalizations; but, men as a whole are exceptionally good at focusing, getting rid of extraneous data, and pushing full steam ahead… and women as a whole are incredibly good at holistic thinking, contextualizing ideas, drawing new connections, and identifying new factors.

"It is actually a good thing to have different strengths and weaknesses on a team… in a partnership… and in a relationship," Sousuke said. "It is also good to understand and predict the behavior in our fellow human beings."

But, could he take things a step further? In a circumstance such as his, was there actually any type of benefit, having a man's thoughts in a woman's brain? He was a team of one.

Indeed, throughout the day he had pushed ahead with his usual bluster, kowtowing to his customary agenda, all along feeling something pushing against him, or gently trying to coax him in a different direction. What if he had followed those hints and pleas?

"It does not matter. What is done is done." He loosened his shoulders, stretched his back, and yawned. "And, there is little time left to do more." School would end very soon. Afterschool activities would commence, and before they were finished, his superiors would no doubt send a helicopter, to bring him back to the laboratory." He looked down at the ring. It was yellow, with small specks of black off at one edge. "There is no need for conjecture. Things will soon be put to right."

He couldn't help but worry, though.

Was that because he was in Kaname's brain? Peggy had said 'Do you know a woman who worries…a lot? Don't blame her! It's just her brain. This all comes down to the worry center of the brain. The Anterior Cortex.'

She had told him that women have a larger anterior cortex, which means they spend more time ruminating, trying to process emotions and worrying. Women have higher rates of anxiety than men. In meetings, women are far more likely than men to read facial expressions of people around them, take the emotional temperature of the room, and be sensitive to people around them. This can benefit them… if they might notice more… or hinder them… if they notice too much. There can be a gift of great awareness and insight; but, there can also be a curse, where heightened sensitivity can bog down decisions and distract from effectiveness.

"Be the ball… don't drop the ball… be the ball… don't drop the ball…." Sousuke chanted as if he were performing a mantra. "I will not let my imagination run wild. I will not overreact. I will not turn a molehill into a mountain."

What can there possibly be to worry about?"

"**Boys!"** Maya said, storming past. "They are such _ass_holes!" She seemed irate.

"You've got _that_ right," Shiori said, clenching her fists. The two of them were marching to the restroom, tired of hearing the louts in the back of the classroom.

"_Hey!"_ Tomomi said. "Don't forget. Men will treat women the way that women let them. There is no such thing as deserving respect. We need to _demand_ respect."

"_No!"_ Rumiko said. "We _do_ deserve respect. And they do not. Simple as that!"

"Troglodytes!" Mayuko grumped.

"Kyouko!" Daidai snapped. "Don't take our pictures now!"

"Oh!" Someone bumped hard into his desk. "Pardon me, Kaname!" It was Shinji. Looking very frantic and fearful, he dropped a folded note onto the desktop. He quickly moved on.

Sousuke covered the note with his hand, making certain that no one was watching. Should he even open the note? What if Shinji harbored secret feelings for Kaname, and was attempting to make a confession? He sighed. It would not be his problem, either way.

[DON'T SPEAK TO ME. DON'T LOOK BACK AT THE BULLIES. THEY HAVE BEEN SAYING DIRTY THINGS ABOUT ALL OF THE GIRLS, INCLUDING YOU AND TESSA. ESPECIALLY YOU AND TESSA.

Shinji listed some of the particulars. Sousuke felt his breath quicken, and his heartrate increase. He tried breathing exercises. He tried to recall the aroma of freshly baking buns. He tried to remember the soothing sound of bagpipes and a marching military band.

THEY HAVE TOLD ME I HAVE TO BE AROUND AFTER CLASS WITH MY CAMERA. I HAVE HEARD THEM TALKING ABOUT SOME KIND OF BIG PLAN. I COULDN'T HEAR ALL THE DETAILS; BUT, IT SOUNDED LIKE SOME KIND OF A RAID DURING SPORTING EVENTS, TARGETING YOU AND THE OTHER GIRLS]

Without knowing what he was doing, Sousuke crumpled up the paper in his hand. 'His' nostrils flared. "Be the ball… be the ball… be the ball… be the ball… be the ball… be the ball…."

"**Watch out, man!"** The baseball team captain said to his catcher. "Don't bump into the Class Slut's desk!" He made a mock show of pulling the other boy away from 'Kaname's' desk. "She's in a 'delicate way'."

"_Sorry!_ I can't see through my tears." The other boy pretended to wipe his eyes. "I always thought she was so pure." He chuckled. "I can't masturbate to her picture any more!"

"You can give the picture to me!" That was the goalie from the soccer club. "I'll put it to good use. My fucking mom took all my porno mags."

"Rough man! Really rough!" Even the kendo club's best felt compelled to join in. "No… not having the mags taken. Having to look at _that!"_ He hooked one thumb into his waist, and used the other to gesture towards 'Kaname.'

"_Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-ah_." There was a chorus of laughter from a growing group of sports guys.

Sousuke picked up the pencil on his desk and began twirling it about 'his' fingers. He pictured a scene from 'John Wick:'

**Viggo Tarasov : **It's not what you did, son, that angers me so. It's who you did it to.

**Iosef Tarasov : **Who? That fucking nobody?

**Viggo Tarasov : **That "fuckin' nobody"... is John Wick. He once was an associate of ours. They call him "Baba Yaga."

**Iosef Tarasov : **The Boogeyman?

**Viggo Tarasov : **Well John wasn't exactly the Boogeyman. He was the one you sent to kill the fucking Boogeyman.

**Iosef Tarasov : **Oh.

**Viggo Tarasov : **John is a man of focus, commitment, sheer will... something you know very little about. I once saw him kill three men in a bar... with a pencil, with a fucking pencil.

He then pictured John Wick in action with a pencil, in the sequel to that first film. "Isn't that a bit excessive," a diminutive figment of Sosuke's imagination said. It was a small white winged girl angel. "Kaname Chidori is not John Wick. Turn the other cheek. There is no reason to go looking for trouble. You need to think about our reputation." She swung around an imaginary harp, plucking a series of serene strings.

Sousuke calmed down a bit, nodding his head. "True," he said, putting the pencil down and rolling it away from him.

"But what if they come looking for trouble," another diminutive form asked. It was a small boy devil, with horns, barbed tail, and pitchfork. "A whole bunch of bastard bullies. Sousuke Sagara is not Ghandi. An eye for an eye. You have to protect our body, too." He put a finger over one nostril and blew out smoke rings.

"_Si vis pacem, para bellum_," Sousuke said. The meaning: 'If you want peace, prepare for war.'

He told the class that he to take care of some Student Council business, and left early.

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_For anyone still reading this story, we are coming to the home stretch. Perhaps some charitable association can arrange a medal ceremony for anyone lasting to the very end._


	16. Chapter 16

_For the few… the proud… the reviewer(s)… thanks for hanging in there._

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**SOMEWHERE IN SWITZERLAND**

At a marvelous antique desk, a scion of its type, carved throughout the lifetime of a long dead craftsman, a man sat, watching two computer screens. He ran one hand over the desk top, remembering the day he had used organizational contacts to obtain the furniture at an estate sale in the village of Clarens.

The technician tapped his fingers on a well-used keyboard, before taking sips from an exquisite china cup of expresso, and munching on a warm biscuit slathered in elderberry jam. The chateaux that he used as a temporary home and base of operations was filled with more furniture than equipment, but it was his work with the latter that paid for the former.

Dabbing at the corner of his mouth with an embroidered cloth napkin, he eyed the computer screen to his left. Images zoomed towards him, almost as if he was a bird flying through clouds and clear blue sky. Glimpses of the ground below gave him a rough idea of altitude, but not location. The landmarks were far too tiny to make out. The screen on the right showed a thick pulsing red line with arrows, depicting the flight path, superimposed on a ghostly outline of the world. With a tap of a key, he brought up an individual nation. Further keystrokes could narrow things down to provinces, states, cities, or even streets, if he wished.

The circuitous route of the plan 1102-Chazaqiel painted a pattern reminiscent of a piece of modern art that the technician had seen the week before at the Musee d'Art et Contemporain. He typed in another series of commands, continuing to keep the craft flying a random route close enough to the target to reach it swiftly enough when necessary, but not close enough to any given target to raise precise suspicions. That should keep Mithril on pins and needles, should they spot the enormous RPV.

The dial phone on the desk rang. The man picked up the receiver and placed it to his ear. He listened briefly, and then hung up the phone, not having a need to reply. The end-user was ready. Typing in a select phrase, he switched the system over to automatic piloting, on a path straight to the user's location. In a few moments, that man would take over control of the craft from his location.

Leaving the dishes and cup at the desk for the maid to clean up, he left the ornate office and headed downstairs. A driver would take him to Clinique La Prairie on the shores of Lake Geneva.

He could use a good soaking and some pleasant holistic treatments.

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**THE LABORATORY**

"Don't touch that dial!" Reginald's voice cut through the machine noise like a hot knifed through butter.

"_This_ dial?" Dr. Hfuhruhurr put his hand on one of many glowing dials, knobs and switches, twisting his hand without actually twisting the dial. **"Oops!"**

"W-what do you mean, oops?" Dr. Necessiter said, fighting back a grin. "Don't say oops."

"Should I do it again," Dr. Hfuhruhurr asked, picking up on the movie cue. He watched as Reginald pushed his way past engineers and technicians, on a beeline to the control panel.

"Yes, yes. Yes. Without the 'oops'. This-a-way" Dr. Necessiter made a twisting motion with his hand. He was channeling David Levinson from 'Independence Day,' just as the other scientist played the role of Captain Steven Hiller.

"Warning," a voice said over a ceiling mounted speaker. "The next run with commence in approximately two minutes. All personnel please move to designated safe zones. No exceptions."

"Stop. _Stop!_ _**STOP!"**_ Reginald said, knocking a grandmotherly support staff member over a chair. " Didn't I tell you?! I insist on being the one to turn the dial for this." He looked over at the New Magic Egg, where two ferrets were situated in the enlarged and fortified chamber. "Get ready, little ones. Get ready. We will do this." He glared at the two doctors, like a dinosaur sizing up prey. "Those animals imprinted on _me._ They seem to trust _me._ I've been present at the test for _every_ animal brought to the Tokyo Neurological Center."

Dr. Hfuhruhurr raised an eyebrow… thought a moment… and then nodded his head. He began working his hands, pantomiming a shark or something else with terrible jaws. He was a wiz at charades.

"They couldn't breed in the wilds," Dr. Necessiter said, pointing at the ferrets. His cryptic remark having Reginald making a face. The scientist had picked up on the 'Jurassic Park' reference. Reginald's words had paralleled those of John Hammond at the birth of a velociraptor. Dr Hfuhruhurr could have been doing a hand signal for 'Jaws', given the Steven Spielburg connection. Or, it could have been a dinosaur. "I wonder if they will even be able to breed _after_ the test."

"You wouldn't want to breed either," Hfuhruhurr said. "If Reggie here looked up _your_ skirt!" He chuckled, seeing the administrative assistant fidget, searching for a pithy comeback. With his long and pointed nose, and the way he held his hands together tight on his chest, he almost had the silhouette of a Compsognathus.

"_Here we go!"_ Reginald prepared to turn the dial.

"**Halt!"** That was Miss Uumellmahaye. "You haven't primed the containment field." She gave Reginald a withering look. She wanted to say something more demeaning, but felt it would be beneath her dignity. "I for one do not wish to experience the same effects that our… brave recruits… will live through." Her eyes were moist. The way she said 'live through' was almost a prayer.

"_The button!"_ Reginald slapped himself in the forehead. He had to push a big red button next to the shiny glowing dial.

"Push it with your nose," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "I think that you should push it with your nose. Form follows function. You look like a woodpecker."

"I-" Reginald puffed up.

"Or, push it with your pecker," Dr. Necessiter said. _"If_ you can get enough wood. The girls in the engineering pool have a bet going. They don't think you could do it."

"You-" Reginald looked like he was about to burst.

"Gentlemen." The way that Anne said that, it was clear that she felt that the two jokesters were anything but gentlemen. "This is a solemn process. Not only for the animals, thrust into their heroic role, but also for Miss Chidori." She reached over and gave a watching Kaname a squeeze on the hand.

"You are right," Dr Hfuhruhurr said.

"Yes," Dr. Necessiter said. He turned to Reginald and said "You have permission to proceed."

"I don't need permission," Reginald blurted, grimacing when he realized that he had taken the bait. He coughed… took a deep breath and let it out… reached a zen place inside him… and pushed the button.

The equipment in the room had already been shimmering, throwing off rings and rays of lambent light. Now, pulses of color ran up and down large mechanical spires, and glowing fireflies of lights flew away from large humming orbs. A wall of darting and dancing particles raised up from metal strips on the floor, forming a curtain between the test area and the rest of the room. Immediately thereafter, a number of technicians turned dials, pushed buttons, and made entries into a computer, fine-tuning the New Magic Egg, which sparkled like the fanciest of Faberge eggs.

"Here we go," Reginald said, eagerness dripping from his voice. "This time… I will go to eleven…." He began to twist the dial.

"But," a technician said. "Most dials go to ten. Does that mean that this will be louder?" He hid a smile behind his hand. He couldn't help himself. Reginald's words had made him think of 'Spinal Tap.'

"Well," an engineer replied. "It's one louder, _isn't _it? It's not ten. You see, most, most blokes, you know, will be playing at ten… you're on ten here, all the way up, all the way up, all the way up… you're on ten on your machine. Where can you go from there? _Where?"_

"I don't know," the support woman said, glowering at Reginald. She certainly didn't need another hip replacement.

"Nowhere. _Exactly."_ The engineer continued. "What we do is, if we need that extra push over the cliff, you know what we do?"

"Put it up to eleven." Dr. Hfuhruhurr said.

"Eleven," Dr. Necessiter said, looking at Anne. "Exactly. One louder."

"Why don't you just make ten louder-" The technician asked. "-And make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?"

"**THIS GOES TO ELEVEN!"** Reginald had had his fill of the ribaldry. But his appearance, and the perfect answer, had a lot of people chuckling, and some fighting back belly laughs. "You people! This is _not _a comedy club. This is science!" With that, he turned the dial to full power in a slow measured motion.

"I hope it works this time," Kaname said, fingers crossed. The ring on her finger was now yellow, with thick streaks of black. "If only to escape from all this." She looked from doctor to doctor, and from administrative assistant to crew members.

"_Amen!"_ Anne shrugged. That wasn't her religion, of course. But that word just seemed perfect at that moment.

"Something _different_ is happening!" One technician watched a view screen, which showed the camera feed from within the Egg. Cloaked in a lambent glow, like being bathed in a pastel aurora, the ferrets had stopped moving. Their eyes glowed red. Then, the color spilled out from the eyes, and began to paint their entire body with a soft glow. They began growing larger… then smaller… then larger… and then smaller again. A strange whistling noise escaped from both ends of their bodies.

_**POPPPPPP-PPPPP-PPPP-PPP-PP-P!**_

The unlucky test subjects exploded like furry little bombs. The voices in the lab all quieted, in sadness and respect. All, but one, which broke the verbal silence a few moments later:

In a sing-song voice, picturing a Jack-in-the-Box toy he had as a child, Dr. Hfuhruhurr called out:

_Every night, when I go out  
The weasel's on the table  
Take a stick and knock it off  
Pop goes the weasel_

In an even more theatrical manner, Dr. Necessiter continued the famous nursery rhyme, which was also a vocal piece listed as number 5249 in the Roud Folk Song Index:

_Up and down the city road  
In and out of the eagle  
That's the way the money goes  
Pop goes the weasel_

The meaning of the verses involves pawning one's coat in desperation to buy food and drink, as 'weasel' is traditional Cockney rhyming slang for 'coat' and 'pop' is a slang word for 'pawn.' Therefore, 'Pop goes the weasel' meant pawning a coat. The 'monkey on the table' is the demand for payment of a mortgage or other secured loan. If knocked off the table or ignored it would go unpaid and accrue interest, requiring the coat to be pawned again. The stick itself may be rhyming slang: sticks and stones rhyming with loans. The 'eagle' probably refers an old pub in City Road, London, the Eagle.

Of course, the two doctors were referring to the loud noise, and the unfortunate victims.

"**THAT'S IT!"** Anne had reached her limit, yet again, even after raising the breadth of her limit. "This time, its _enemas!"_

Doctors Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter started running. It was best to keep as far ahead of Miss Uumellmahaye as possible, of course. They also didn't want to be around when the Egg needed to be cleaned, or when a necropsy was performed on whatever might be left of the poor ferrets.

"The poor things," Kaname said,a tear in the corner of one eye. There was symbolism in her words, she realized. She was sad at the fate of the two cute mammals. She was scared for herself and Sousuke. Time was ticking away. This was just the latest in a growing list of failures.

The first mishap had occurred with the goldfish run. The two fish had turned translucent, and expanded like giant Japanese street lanterns, glowing inside. When they started floating up towards the ceiling, Dr. Hfuhruhurr had tied strings to them, walking around as if he had two balloons. Dr. Necessiter grabbed a sharpened pencil and popped both of the deceased fish, before marching off, whistling. The two Cane toads had ended up worse, literally turning inside out. The cats were still alive… but, very different. Their long curly hair had shot straight out and stayed that way, stiff and sharp,like porcupine quills. And, they had turned pink, with neon green polka dots. The lambs were still alive, too. They seemed no worse for wear; but, something very odd had happened with them and the machinery. The recorded measurements were contradictory, and made no sense, yet. Everyone in the room felt that they had dodged a very big bullet, even though they did not know what that bullet was.

"No-" Kaname cringed. She didn't want to think about the puppies. One hospital staff member had hailed a taxi, visited an animal shelter, and returned with a box of cute mix-breed puppies. Their fate would haunt her for a long time. "You don't mean…." She looked as a pair of burly men pushed a large cart into the room. The cage held a pair of chimpanzees. "Are… are they… next…."

"**Check the results!"** Reginald ordered a group of scientists to run the numbers from the experiment, and to compare them to the rest of the acquired data. "If the concurrence factor is greater than fifty percent, we will try the primates. If not, we will bring in more puppies!" He eyed the quivering crowd. "Or… if our efforts run dry in purchases… we will start bringing in personal pets…."

Kaname tensed up. There was no way that anyone there would get their hands on her hamster or fish! 'She' was carrying a taser gun, much like the one that Sousuke had given her, back before he had vacated his apartment and left her under Wraith's watchful eyes. She sighed, beginning to think back to that day, and the days that followed. She shook those thoughts away, not wanting to deal with the swell of emotions that always came with them. Good memnories had no place here and now. She didn't want to sullen them with the feelings she was dealing with at that instant. So, she switched her thoughts to the here and now, wondering what Sousuke was doing. Classes should be over now. He should be getting ready for softball, if he was staying on campus.

"I wonder how he's doing," Kaname said. "At least _he _had things easy, I bet." _Any _thing had to be easy, compared to the events she had been beset by. "Unless." She tensed up. Her feelings of warmth turned into feelings of concern. Not for Sousuke. Rather, for the things that he might have done, in her body. "I shouldn't worry. I won't worry!" She clenched her fists. She would _fight_ the worry. "Sousuke did just fine, I know it. What could possibly happen at school?" memories rushed into her mind. She had a catalog of dozens of things that had happened at school. Sousuke may be in her body; but, Sousuke was still Sousuke, on the inside.

The noises that the chimps made, broke Kaname out of her thoughts. She looked over at the two of them, huddled together in their bleak enclosure. The one animal had a scar on its cheek. She immediately associated it with Sousuke. That, by association, made the other chimp an honorary Chidori. She herself knew all too well what it was like to be held in a cage of sorts. She had come close to being a Guinea pig on a number of occasions.

"I wish I could save you," she said to the chimpanzees. "But… I'm sorry… I need _you_ to help save _me."_

The world is not fair. She was well aware of that fact.

Sousuke was, too.

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**FINAL HOMEROOM REDUX**

Sousuke strode with a purpose.

Passing by a hallway mirror… and getting a good glimpse of 'his' face and posture… he was suddenly struck by a dense of déjà vu. 'He' looked just the way that Kaname often did, when she rolled up her sleeves and waded into some kind of trouble at school… or when she prepared to hit him with a flying knee to the chin, after he had done something irritating or inappropriate.

"That face fits," he remarked to himself. He was in a sour mood. Sour, but serious. Serious in a 'come up with a plan' and 'defend the position at all costs' way. He was sour, having heard the bully boys chatting and cat-calling all day. He was serious, having heard word that there might be some kind of enemy operation in the works. "Enemy…." He slowed his steps, some.

What exactly _were_ the opposing sides? Boys versus girls? Thinking of things that way, would he be traitor if he went against the boys? He _was_ a boy in soul and mind, after all. But, he was in a girls body, and he had sworn to protect the girl who was normally in that body, seeing that it was the body he had been ordered to guard. "There are more than one way to skin a cat," he mused, adding another earlier animal friendly saying: "There are more ways to kill a dog than hanging." He could divide things differently. Good boys versus evil boys. That worked. Any boy siding with the rabble rousers would be identified as 'evil.' Any boy siding with the endangered girls would be 'good.' All others would be in a gray zone: 'evil until proven good.'

Hopefully, the malcontents had only been talking big, or blowing off steam. But, it always served well to prepare, just in case. Shinji had provided him intelligence at the risk of his own safety. He would not let that intelligence go to waste.

"**I know what to do!"** Sousuke loved it when a plan comes together. "The bear has given me the answer." He was referring to Gloomy Bear, who had been passive in his assistance. The mascot had worn the ovum costume. He had shown his claws, the weapons of battle. "The victory that comes from a strategy is like an… egg… thrown against a rock." That was a saying of Sun Tzu.

Sousuke picked up speed and actually ran to the Home Economics room. Homeroom would be over soon, and a majority of the students would be heading off to their afterschool clubs. In theory, the clubs are owned by the students, run by students, and only nominally supervised by assigned teachers. Some have close supervision, like bands; others have coaches, like archery or baseball. Some are more autonomous, like History Club or Anime Club. The school gives them a place to meet, and a time. Some clubs meet every day, and for others it's every week. The student council manages the budget for clubs, as well as assignment of meeting spaces.

"I too have a club of sorts," Sousuke said, dodging students in the hallway. Most students would not look at membership in a philanthropic mercenary organization as an afterschool club. His mind could flip both ways. While on Da Danaan, he viewed Jindai as a mission. At the Highschool, he saw military missions as a break from the sturm and drang of school. The only thing that was viewed the same way was Kaname. "Mithril is a club that is very difficult to quit." He remembered standing before the Council, eventually telling them he was willing to stay on…and would even accept a fifty percent pay cut… if he could continue to guard Chidori.

Many but not all schools in Japan go so far as to mandate that _all _students must join a club of some sort, forcing the students to participate in extracurricular activities. There are a number of reasons for that. The students will be more likely to misbehave if they aren't made to participate in extracurricular activities. Without the requirement, some clubs won't be able to attract members and would be discontinued. It would be harder to attract new students and their parents to the school. The school would no longer be able to collect an 'extracurricular activities fee' from all students' households if some of them are not participating in any such activities. Some of the things most often claimed to be learned or gained through extracurricular club activities by the participants include 'make close friends'… 'improved skill and technique'…'learning to be thankful'… 'learning how to make proper greetings'… 'become well-mannered'… 'make close upperclassmen friends'… 'gain tenacity to overcome problems'… 'gain concentration'… 'become more cooperative'… 'develop friendship with teachers'… 'gained physical strength'… 'become able to speak my opinion'… and 'gain problem-solving skills'. In reality, students can be slow to develop social skills when bukatsu takes up so much time. They are a little late in developing a view of the world and understanding how to behave in society. The sports bullies were a picture perfect example.

"The teachers claim that clubs improve a student's positive concept of self compared to those who do not join clubs." Furthermore, it was considered to be a fact that students in sports clubs have higher self-concepts than students in non-sports clubs. Sousuke didn't necessarily believe that, seeing how the sports guys at Jindai were largely a group of bullies. No, he couldn't assume everyone was. But, for his purposes, if you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas. "Mithril-" Sousuke slowed down as he approached the room. What had joining Mithril done for his self image and self-concepts, compared to his life before Mithril, or his life before he first picked up a weapon?

Fortunately, there was no one in the room. Given the space issues at any highschool, he expected that some club's members would begin aggregating there. Time was indeed of the essence, considering that he was launching a raid on the Home Economics Club's belongings. Like in war, some necessary choices were not necessarily the most moral or ethical of choices. Sometimes, you have to rob Peter to pay Paul.

Japanese national curriculum guidelines stipulate that student participation in extracurricular activities must be independent and voluntary. But, Jindai clubs… like most nationwide… were closer in principal to his rank requirements in Mithril: he had no sense of independence whatsoever, except for the requirements that he be able to go off the grid or change mission parameters if he faces a situation that he thinks requires such a drastic change, and he cannot reach a superior to ask for permission. In many schools, there is a coerced 'independence' that robs students of opportunities to think for themselves.

"Independence is a sword that cuts both ways," Sousuke said, grabbing a huge metal pot from a storage room. He went to the first of a number of refrigerators and began removing hard-boiled eggs and placing them in the vessel. "That is no more evident than at this school." Though his decisions made sense to him at the time he made them, his superiors at the school and in the organization often suffered fits of apoplexy. Kaname often had the strongest reaction of all. If he wasn't her protector, he wondered if she would always stick by him through thick and thin.

"Sun Tzu says, do not put all of your eggs in one basket." Realizing the value in that concept, he nestled the half full pot inside an equally-large empty pot, before resuming his thievery. He paused in his acquisitions, a stray thought catching his fancy. WWII. World War II marked the glory years for decorating all things meant for combat. Bombers had their famous nose art, while fighters like the P-40 Warhawk had red and white shark mouths scrawled on their nose. Tanks had nicknames written on their gun barrels and soldiers went out of their way to decorate their field jackets, bomber jackets, and more. The particular custom he thought of was the one where U.S. servicemen wrote notes on bombs. Despite being pressed for time, he grabbed a Sharpie and began scrawling pithy quips and challenges on the egg shells. He quoted sayings he'd read about in military journals. He pulled things from his personal experience. He drew a good replica of Grumpy Cat's ears, eyes and mouth, with the message 'DIE' in large block letters. A U.S. Airman had painted that on a JDAM used in Iraq.

Some ninety percent of intermediate and high-school students participate in extracurricular clubs, of which, generally speaking, there are two basic types: sports clubs… _undōbu_… and cultural clubs… _bunkabu_. Cultural clubs include things such as music and band; the arts; student newspaper; student government; cooking; flower arrangement; tea ceremony; and such. While the Japanese concept of bukatsu has the potential to teach children a lot of things, the opportunity is often diminished by over-practice, the desire for perfection, and in power relationships. Once a student joins a club, he or she usually stays in the club and continues to participate in its activities until graduation. Most senior members are less active in their club duties during their last year of school, because they are preparing for either job hunting or college entrance exams. Many clubs hold salutary events that commemorate their senior's 'retirement' from the club.

"Retirement?" Sousuke paused. The Council members were up in age. Commander Mardukas and Lieutenant Commander Kalinin were no spring chickens. How many people actually left Mithril, compared to those who exited through the shadowy vale of death? They were there voluntarily, right? If they stayed on for a great length of time, it was because of altruistic or monetary reasons, _wasn't _it? Or, because as soldiers, they didn't know anything else they could excel at? Would _he _be a lifer? What could he graduate to? He didn't expect that he would be guarding the cake at Kaname's wedding reception, or looking for booby traps in her children's diapers. "Unless it was _my _wedding too… or _my_ children…" He almost dropped a large box of eggs. Where in hell had _that _thought come from!

Mithril asked a lot of him, especially given his age. Sports clubs typically demand five or six days of practice a week, after school and on weekends and sometimes even before school. Club practices extend into long vacations. Some schools even plan summer _gasshuku_, or camps, where the whole club and the coaches go away for a few days. But, it wasn't sports clubs alone. Some parents with children in cultural clubs felt that they never saw their children any more. True, there _are_ non-sports clubs with minimal participation, and a no stress life-style. Many of those were populated by students who followed the requirement to join some club, but didn't want their life to be consumed by one. Especially since quitting a club is frowned upon and is rather sardonically referred to as _kitaku-bu_…going home club. But, it was more than that. The disregard of the students' supposed independence may be found not only in enrollment in clubs, but also in withdrawing from them, when faculty advisors make strenuous efforts to retain students who want to quit.

When students at some highschools had applied to withdraw from a club… after the paperwork and appointments had been more than onerous… the club's faculty advisor had yelled at the students to think of the other club members, and blasted the students in question as 'worthless.' It seems unlikely that the reason for such abuse was a genuine concern for 'the other club members.' Rather, when faculty advisors have their own identities bound up with these extracurricular activities, they perceive students who try to leave as disruptive elements who are rebelling against the advisors themselves. Moreover, those who remain in the club give the student the cold shoulder and rejected them for quitting.

"I quit once," Sousuke said. He had indeed, he thought sadly. When he had thought Kaname dead, he had checked out, his mind a mess. He had even said to the uncaring world that Kurz, Melissa, Clouseau, not to mention a Chinese assassin and a squad of Amalgam Codarls, should all just fight to the death. The view he had of the 'Sousuke then' certainly had the 'Sousuke now' feeling cheap and worthless. Kaname had not only saved him in body and spirit, but also returned his sense of duty, and a concept of 'the future.'

Sport clubs often exhibit a very strict hierarchy that makes it hard for junior members to oppose or disobey their seniors. Sousuke could certainly identify with that. The members are usually expected to perform menial tasks for their upperclassmen and take care of the mundane tasks such as equipment carrying and cleaning. In the SRT, he often found himself doing the scut work. But, there is a difference in the chain of command compared to the _senpai-kouhai _relationship. In Japan, _senpai_ is usually the upperclassman, someone of a higher age, or senior. _Kouhai _is a protégé or junior. It's the equivalent of the mentor system, but more strict and already integrated in most of the society's structures. The mentor system is found at all levels of education, and in professional sports clubs, businesses, and informal or social organizations.

"Like the military," Sousuke said, as he piled the last egg on top of the others. "The concept of discipline in sports may mimic the military as well. That, and the lack of moderation." Bukatsu trains students to be great salarymen… to work eighteen-hour days without complaining and without having another life. And, thinking back to boot camp, he saw yet another parallel. Elite athletes are often exposed to verbal and physical abuse in the belief that it spurs them to greater efforts and greater results.

"In some sports, a spirit much like Bushidō still persists," Sousuke opined. "The code of moral principles which the samurai observed was loosely analogous to the European concept of chivalry. Bushido allowed the violent existence of the samurai to be tempered by wisdom, patience and serenity. A samurai was expected to follow the law of honor, obedience, duty, and self-sacrifice, and was required to conduct himself with calmness, fairness, justice, and propriety. "How many of the eight virtues do the bullies follow," Sousuke said, asking himself a rhetorical question.

The Bushidō code is typified by eight virtues: Righteousness; Heroic Courage; Benevolence and Compassion; Respect; Honesty; Honor; Duty and Loyalty; and Self-Control. Those boys likely lacked the virtues. Or, if somewhere in their family lives, or on the sports fielded, they were taught the principals, those principals may have been warped, or misinterpreted. It could also be a matter of context, he supposed. The Bushido code of behavior had been drilled into the Japanese soldier in WWII as part of his basic training.

Each soldier had been indoctrinated to accept that it was the greatest honor to die for the Emperor and it was cowardly to surrender to the enemy. Bushido therefore explains why the Japanese in the Dutch East Indies mistreated POWs in their custody. Those who had surrendered to the Japanese… regardless of how courageously or honorably they had fought… merited nothing but contempt; they had forfeited all honor and literally deserved nothing. Consequently, when the Japanese murdered POWs by shooting, beheading, and drowning, those acts were excused since they involved the killing of men who had forfeited all rights to be treated with dignity or respect. Civilian internees were treated differently.

Whether the boys were brainwashed with Bushidō or not, he planned to show them the true spirit of warfare. He remembered a bad movie. 'Battle For the Planet of the Apes.' The human mutants' attack on Ape City initially succeeded after an artillery barrage destroyed or damaged many homes and buildings, forcing Caesar to order the defenders to fall back. When the mutant commander Kolp finds Caesar lying seemingly wounded amongst among apparent dead apes on the ground, he taunts him saying that apes would once again be humanity's slaves or they would all die. Then, as the mutant prepared to shoot him, Caesar shouted an iconic line, and most of the fallen apes all around him… who were feigning death or hiding on Caesar's orders… launched a counter-attack that captured a majority of the mutants and drove Kolp into retreat.

"Now-" Sousuke said. "-Fight like apes!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**AFTER SCHOOL ACTIVITIES**

The big hand on the clock moved.

It was now 3:45 PM. A series of chimes sounded over the P.A. system. School was now over. It was time for after school activities to begin.

"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt." Sousuke quoted Sun Tzu. "In making tactical dispositions, the highest pitch you can attain is to conceal them; conceal your dispositions, and you will be safe from the prying of the subtlest spies, from the machinations of the wisest brains'.

_Concealment!_

That would certainly serve another significant role. Maybe the most critical of all. To follow through with his plan as Kaname Chidori would have far reaching consequences. He needed to find some way to disguise himself. Hmmm-mm-m. _That?_ _**Yes!**_ This room provided yet another bounty.

The costumes sewn by Home Economics students. They would be perfect. But, which should he choose? A past event sealed the deal. The choice became clear. He had thought back to 'Night of the Lepus.' He remembered the large white killer rabbits. The Easter Bunny costume would hide Kaname's face and hair. It might not fill his enemies with fear; but, perhaps it could trick some into a debilitating false sense of security. "So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak. And, at first, then, exhibit the coyness of a maiden, until the enemy gives you an opening; afterwards emulate the rapidity of a running… hare… and it will be too late for the enemy to oppose you."

Sousuke took the fuzzy white costume off of its hanger and slipped it on. He requisitioned a wheeled cart to haul his heavy load of ammunition. But, what good would the ammunition be without a weapon to fire it, and a means to get everything quickly to the battlefront? The final solution to his dilemma had come to mind earlier. He left the Home Economics classroom and headed to the Engineering one. Fortunately for him, that club did not meet today.

"Good," Sousuke said happily. "Everything is still the way that I had left it." There had been some possibility that a different member of the club could have visited the room while he was in Biology class, clean-up, or Home Room. "And one shall become two again. My apologies, Al Junior." He didn't feel the slight bit silly, apologizing to the once self-aware HAL2000, which was now dead to the world.

Using the necessary tools, he reversed his earlier construction efforts, separating the automaton into its upper portion and self-driving base. He had no use for the former, even if he could appropriate its weaponry. Those devices were only good in close quarters combat, or with a minimum of separation between predator and prey. He had a need for long range attacks, and a weapon that could put a punishing fire downfield in fast and furious fashion. "_This_, I can use." He made use of data ports and attachment rings to modify the motive apparatus.

"The central stalk will be useful, if things go as planned," Sousuke said. "I will need a place to stand." He used a rachet gun to quickly fasten a large flat sheet of metal to the rear half of the upper surface. "I will need to be in control." He plugged a long cord into one data entry site. The cord ended in a small box that would allow him to direct the speed and steering of the unit, by means of an omni-directional toggle switch and a sliding knob_. "Up!"_ He jumped onto the platform, standing the way a surfer would on his board. _**"Go!"**_ He felt a bit silly saying that, as it was essentially a command to himself, seeing that the machine had no auditory sensors, and no sentience whatsoever. "I hope the othermachine I need is available." Without _that_ machine, his plan would fall flat on its ass.

"I know I should give up drinking," a man said, on the way to supervise his assigned club. He watched as a large white rabbit steered around him in the hallway, piloting some kind of tractor or tank. He didn't think it odd that the result of last nights drinking session would surface at the current moment. "Or-" He rubbed his eyes, but the image was still there, before the strange contrivance disappeared around a turn to a side passage. "-Maybe I _do_ need to see a shrink." He had always considered himself crazy, seeing that he married the woman he had married… had more children than he could afford to pay for… and stayed at a job that he hated, which paid him far less than he needed. "Did you see that?" He asked a woman who was on the way to her club responsibility.

"No," the woman claimed, lying. "I most certainly did _not!"_

Not concerned about witnesses at this point, Sousuke drove his newest creation to an equipment bay area, one that opened out onto the school grounds. Most of the machinery there was used for lawn care. Other mechanical contrivances were stored there too, if they were oversized, or if there was no other place to house them. The item he needed belonged to the tennis club. Either that club wasn't meeting today… didn't need the device… or was slow in arriving. Their loss, his gain.

"**There!"** Sousuke said, bringing his ride to a halt. _"Good_. I hope I can make it fit, and the power requirements have been met." Kaname was strong enough to get the job done. Barely. 'He' walked over to a large Playmate Smash Ball Machine Max, a pneumatic tennis ball machine with an enormous hopper and a huge cannon-shaped tube at the front. He smiled, when its power cord plugged into a power port on the base, after hefting the lower half of the device onto the tracked base, and then placing the hopper onto the lower half. He poured half of his eggs into the hopper, following the 'eggs in a basket' rule. He would come back for more if he successfully fired the first batch, or something happened that rendered the initial load unusable. "First things first."

He drove the machine forward, leaving it just shy of one of the powered garage-like doors. Taking the costume off, he placed it on the machine. He covered everything with a large tarp, and placed one of the 'Out of Order' signs on top of it, along with a sheet of paper that read 'Parts on Order. Do not touch.'

He then made a beeline to the girl's locker room, where he would garb-up and gather any personal sporting gear Kaname might have set aside from the common club fare.

The equipment was ready. He now needed to get his 'forces' prepared.

* * *

Dressed in blue bloomers, and a blue and white T-shirt, Sousuke shielded his eyes against the sun, needing time to adjust to the level of light outside.

As he made his way over to the field assigned to the girls' softball team, he found himself ruminating, being far more introspective than he might normally be. Was that because he had his mind swimming around in Kaname's brain? Or, was it the evolving and maturing thing that Lieutenant Commander Kalinin sometimes spoke with him about?

_No matter._

Any way you slice it, the past two days had been a whirlwind tour of the unexpected, and the misconcepted, if that was even a word.

A mind-body switch. Learning Ballroom Dancing with the Commander. Combat against a gang, in Kaname's body. Adjusting to the differences in the female form. Using his personal skills to rescue a kitten that no one else could save. Another spirited romp with the late Gauron's soul sister, Wakana. Giving a speech to the assembled student body. Being shocked into inaction by news of a Pop-Quiz, a lesser version of the tumultuous effect he had suffered after hearing fake news from his dead archenemy. Black hair dye. A wave of disrespect for Kaname, and his undisciplined if well-prepared response. Discussing butterflies with a serial killer.

_But, of course, there was more._

Yanki stepping over the line, and his response stepping over a cliff. Mascots, and an unnecessary fight in Bonta-kun, against a deadly looking bear with surprising mechanical abilities. Teaching dancing the way he had been taught, and uncovering Amalgam agents while schooling and enraging dastardly and deceitful school photographers. Showering with girls, and causing excessive havoc in the defense of the naked and well-endowed. A trick with dogs capturing the main objective, but fraught with friendly fire. A resourceful and remarkable defensive creation, misused, taking offense at mankind. The joy of cooking the most perfect food on earth, followed by excessive and unseemly instruction in knife fighting skills. Gender-bending in the natural world, and Tessa materializing in class, unannounced. Hearing about a mysterious aircraft, and only then remembering an earlier report of an enemy A.S. on Tokyo soil.

_Was he about to overreact again?_

"But, what would I regret more?" What would be more damning, misjudging a threat and stirring up trouble, or ignoring his instincts and watching something terrible unfold?

Like the janitor's prize koi, which he and Tsubaki had consumed, he was a fish out of water at Jindai High. Most of his military exploits were mistimed and misplaced and… misconcepted. But, was that too big a price for everyone to pay, if some day his skills might prevent some great disaster? Or, was he more trouble than he was worth, to the school and all, but especially to Kaname? And was he setting himself up for a fall? What if he faced some great threat, only to fail?

"Though the enemy be stronger in numbers, we may prevent him from fighting," Sousuke said, still on a Sun Tzu worshipping tour. "Scheme so as to discover his plans and the likelihood of their success." He could be effective, _and_ be discrete. He knew what to do, to minimize the chance of a stupid unnecessary confrontation. "Now the general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat." It was better to have a plan, than to be caught with his pants down. The strategist had never used _those_ words; but, he had espoused a similar sentiment _somewhere_ in his works.

"Kana-chan, _there_ you are." It was Kyouko. Aside from her baseball glove, she carried her camera of course. "I was wondering if you might go home, with that bump on your head."

"Just because of a little bump," Sousuke said, imagining how Kaname might react. "Me? If I can put up with a mountain of trouble like Sousuke, what's a little bump. Hah _hah hah_ _**hahahahahahaha."**_

"That's our Kaname," Maya said, walking over, swinging the head of her bat back and forth slowly, just above her cleats. "I _knew_ you'd make it."

"Of _course_ she would," Shiori said, placing a large cooler filled with water bottles near an empty bench. "And we certainly need her special leadership skills." She nodded her head in the direction of the large chainlink and tubular steel backstop. Behind it, a couple of girls were smoking, and a few others had broken out a deck of cards.

"I know we're only scrimmaging today," Tomomi said. "It's not like we're playing a real game. Still…." Like the girls who took the club seriously, she was _not_ happy with the behavior of the girls who did only the fun things, avoiding the things that took serious effort and dedication.

"It is not a problem," Sousuke said. "We may well be doing more than scrimmaging today, and it will be no game. If those girls will not come to us, we will go to them. Follow me." He and the majority of the team headed behind the backstop.

"_Huh?"_ That was all that one of the lazy girls bothered to say. She had heard pep talks before. She was so down on that kind of fluff and nonsense. She was in a club like her parents insisted. She showed up every day it met, the way her counselor instructed. She did what needed to be done on game days. _"What?"_

"You may wish to waste your own life away," Sousuke said, knowing he was being a bit too harsh. "But, I will be damned if I let you waste everyone else's life away."

"Just because you were clumsy enough to scramble your brains," a girl said after blowing out cigarette smoke. "Don't take it out on us. We're _not_ your slaves, you know."

"You're not worthy enough to be slaves," Sousuke snapped back, hand behind his back, remembering Mao's 'gentle' instructions at boot camp, and thinking back to his and Kaname's work with the rugby club. How he wished that sports club was on campus now, and not off at a combine! They might be boys, but they would follow her. Better yet, they were like a human steamroller. "But… if what I heard is real… you _may_ end up worse than slaves."

"What did you hear, Kana-chan?" Kyouko looked a bit concerned. Was Kaname about to fly off the handle again, or was their truly some problem on the horizon.

Sousuke told the softball club what he had been told by Shinji. 'He' asked if the girls had noticed the way the sports bullies had been acting all day, and how it had been intensifying hour by hour. They all answered in the affirmative. Most were skeptical, however.

"You don't think anything will happen?" Sousuke said. "Well… I don't blame you." That had everyone relaxing. "But…. believing or knowing… which is better?"

"Ummm… knowing…." One girl said half-heartedly. "I guess."

"**Correct!"** Sousuke said. "So, we will need volunteers. One will spy on the boy's baseball team. If she finds plans of an attack, she will return, and the others will go forth. We will recruit _all_ of the girls' sports teams, as well as any girls in non-sports club who will heed the call. Okay. Who will go?" No hands went up. No one said anything. They all sat quietly and stared at 'her'.

"It's too hot," one of the card players said.

"It's not like Sagara is on the boy's baseball team, or anything." One of the smoking girls blew out a big cloud of smoke.

"It's _your_ job," another card player said. "You_ are_ the club Captain, after all." Their club no-longer had a supervisor. The teacher was on pregnancy leave. Her husband, the boy's baseball coach, had taken paternity time off. "_You _go. We'll stay back here, keeping everything safe. Right?"

Sousuke was disappointed. He expected insubordination from the lazier girls. But, he had hoped that at least one of Kaname's friends would have spoken up. Perhaps he was asking too much. No. He _wasn't._ And, he would _**not**_ sit still for this! He jumped up on a bench and put his hands on his hips. He spat. He then let loose with a verbal barrage as bad as any deadly barrage the allied forces had faced at Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, or Sword Beach on D-day:

"Right now you girls are less than human, you got that?!" He would take a cue from Mao's book, which no doubt owed a large debt to Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. "You're nameless slaves! Once you survive my training, then and only then will you become a weapon! Until that time you lowly maggots are nothing but a bunch of [**BLEEP**] suckers! I despise and look down upon you."

That had the other girls looking at each other, or staring at 'Kaname.' Their very molecules had yet to be affected. But, that would soon end.

"Let's make one thing clear: my job is to find the flabby [**BLEEP**] among you and weed them out! I won't have any stinking [**BLEEP**] on our team keeping us from victory! There will be no laughing or crying. You are NOT human beings! You are KILLING MACHINES! If you couldn't kill, your lives will be worthless! You [**BLEEP**] would be better off in a corner [**BLEEP**] your pussies!"

It didn't make sense to the girls. They should be laughing at the ridiculous speech. They should be telling 'Kaname' to mind her manners. They should be doing anything other than standing there, shivering, the sound of their hearts beating loudly in their ears. But, they were falling under the spell.

"You want to lose on purpose just to stand out? Pretend it hurts to gain some sympathy?! You pathetic loser scum! The best part of you ran down the crack of your mother's [**BLEEP**] and ended up as a [**BLEEP**] stain on the mattress! Quit draggin' your feet, you [**BLEEP**]! If you whimper, I will unscrew your head and [**BLEEP**] down your neck! That bat and those balls are your only boyfriend! You don't need a Billy Joe [**BLEEP**] [**BLEEP**] with a large bulge in his pants! Think of your bat as a hard [**BLEEP**] and [**BLEEP**] him as hard as you can!

Citizens' Military Training Camps were military training programs of the United States. Held annually each summer during the years 1921 to 1940, the CMTC camps differed from National Guard and Organized Reserve training in that the program allowed male citizens to obtain basic military training without an obligation for call-up to active duty. The CMTC were authorized by the National Defense Act of 1920 as a compromise that rejected universal military training. Harry Truman, Ronald Reagan, and Chuck Yeager had participated in that type of camp.

But, Jindai High was not in the United States, and this was not 1921 to 1940. And, most important of all, Sousuke _was _demanding universal acceptance. This would be handled like a military boot camp. Recruit training is a physically and psychologically intensive process, which re-socializes its subjects for the demands of military employment. Psychological conditioning techniques are used to shape attitudes and behaviors, so that recruits will obey all orders, face mortal danger, and kill their opponents in battle. He needed to do in minutes, what usually took weeks or months. But, if anyone was up for the challenge, it was he. It had worked with those once wimpy rugby guys, _hadn't_ it? He had gone soft on them. The girls would _not_ be so fortunate.

"Once this training began-" Sousuke informed the softball team. "-Your right to leave this military team was denied. You have no privacy. You already have uniforms. If we had time, I would shave your heads. You no longer have first names."

All of the girls stood still, in complete silence.

"Your club duties are now highly controlled," Sousuke claimed. "I will tell you how to hold your bats… how to put on protective masks and helmets… how to run the field like you run to a base… just as I would tell you how to make your beds…polish your shoes… and stack your uniforms… _if _we had the time. Now. The first volunteer. _Someone_ speak up!"

"**Me, Sir!"** That was one of the card-playing girls.

"_Then go!"_ Sousuke pointed off in the direction of the boy's filed. "Don't be seen. Complete your mission. If you fall, we will put the flag at half-mast!"

The girl ran off. She was soon followed by messengers sent to other girls' sports teams, and to nearby non-sports groups. One even came up with the idea of visiting the nearest cram school, a block away.

"We will now do a quick foot drill," Sousuke said, the sound of authority ringing clear and loud in Kaname's voice. "You will stand like me… march like me… and respond to my _every_ order. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" All of the girls answered in unison, standing straight.

"Foot drill is essential for esprit de corps and cohesion," Sousuke told the girls, as he lined them up. "You will get used to instinctive obedience. You will be enabled marched and be moved in an orderly manner. And, most important of all, this will create the basis for action in the battlefield." He began directing simple and sharp movements, getting the club members to move the way he wanted them to. He shouted personal insults. He used physical aggression and gave orders intended to humiliate. The condition of continuous stress depleted the girls' resistance to the demands he made of them.

"This isn't so bad," Maya said quietly to Kyouko, not wanting to be overheard by 'Kaname.'

"I'm starting to like it," a former smoking girl said. "And… I'm even starting to like _every_one…."

"Why is everyone so jazzed up," one of the first dozen new arrivals asked. She was a member of the tea ceremony club. Not far behind her were members of the girls' archery squad, the girls' volleyball team, the yearbook club, the girls' swimming group, and the English Conversation club. Figures that could be walking across the field came from track & field, ping pong, the movie club, broadcasting group, cheer leaders' assembly, and the girls' handball team. There would be more.

"You'll see soon enough," Mari promised.

As a buffer against the stressful conditions of Sousuke's brief training session, the trainee group was forming a strong bond of mutual loyalty. They actually began to feel an intense 'we-feeling', something more powerful than the civilian bonds they were familiar with. They began to feel proud of their identity as a sports club member, and of their team in particular. 'Kaname' told Heroic military stories, while praising their sport above all others. They now viewed everyone else as lesser people, less worthy of respect. The growing bonding within the team overrode each individual's natural human resistance to violence. Their instructor knew that the toughness and bonding required increases the closer the contact with the enemy. 'She' was a specialist.

Training systematically stimulates aggression, particularly in those enlisted for ground close combat roles. As part of the process, Sousuke called out: "I wanna see it in your eyes that you wanna kill these fuckers. Imagine these posts are the fucking Baseball Team and they've just killed some of your friends." He handed out aluminum bats to the girls and pointed to huge wooden posts anchoring the backstop. "You wanna fuckin' kill them. Show me your war face!"

"Grrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-r!' The girls growled, and forced some faux fearsome faces. It was slightly more threatening than the look Mulan had, cheeks filled with rice, after Mushu had told her to show him _her_ war face. Another gender bender coincidence, seeing that the title character was a girl pretending to be a boy, and later, a group of male soldiers would dress up as women. He tried to shake an unwanted melody from his head, one attributed to both scenes. Instead, he remembered snippets of the lyrics:

_Let's get down to business_

_To defeat the Huns_

_Did they send me daughters_

_When I asked for sons._

_BE A MAN_

_We must be swift as a coursing river_

_BE A MAN_

_With all the force of a great typhoon_

_BE A MAN_

_With all the strength of a raging fire_

_Mysterious as the dark side of the moon_

_Hoo-ah!_

The girls' response was not up to snuff for the sergeant in Sousuke, or the Sousuke in Kaname. "I think my bunny slippers just ran for cover. Come on, scare me girls," he shouted. "Show… me… your… war… face!"

"**GRRRRRRR-RRRRRR-RRRRR-RRRR-RRR-RR-R!"** The growling grew louder. The faces grew much more fearsome.

"I feel like I could take on a fucking tiger," one girl said, eyes glowing.

"I feel like I could take on a fucking Tyranosaurus Rex," another girl said, an unholy smile on her lips.

Now, it was time for a process called milling. **"Every girl will put on her baseball glove!"** Sousuke watched as his recruits complied. _"Next, you will all pair off!" _The girls did as they were ordered to do. "Smack each other's head with the glove, as aggressively as possible." To further enable his recruits to attack on demand, he would teach them to dehumanize their opponents in battle as an 'enemy target' … 'to be engaged'… which will 'fall when hit'.

In the relatively short time that the 'spy' was absent from the team, her teammates had undergone a mind-boggling transformation. She stared in awe… with a seed of jealousy growing in her chest… as she watched them all upon her return:

**Sousuke**: What is our specialty, ladies?!

**Team**: KILL! KILL! KILL!

**Sousuke**: What is our goal in this endeavor?!

**Team**: KILL! KILL! KILL!

**Sousuke**: DO WE LOVE OUR SCHOOL?! DO WE LOVE OUR SOFTBALL CLUB?!

**Team**: GUNG HO! GUNG HO! GUNG HO!

**Sousuke**: Scout, report!

"I-" The returning girl began, and stopped. She spoke louder, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster:

"I OBSERVED THE ENEMY. THEY ARE PREPARING FOR ATTACK. THEY HAVE RECRUITED OTHER BOY'S CLUBS. THE GOAL IS TO HUMILIATE US… TEACH US OUR PLACE… AND ESTABLISH DOMINACE FOR THE REST OF OUR TIME AT SCHOOL!"

She paused again, and then spoke in a quieter more personable tone. "Some just want a chance to stick it to the Unapproachable Idol… you, Sir… Kaname Chidori…." She then gave accounts of more things that she had scoped out. Like the girls, the boys had also recruited from numerous clubs. Aside from baseball, there was kendo… soccer… mathematics… sumo… badminton… manga… culture… rock music… tennis… fine arts…shogi… go… and the boy's archery team. No girls from any of the co-ed clubs had joined. Not all boys from any given male club signed on.

_But, all was not bleak. _

Boys from some clubs had heard the spy's tale, and would be joining the melee on the girl's side. So would a number of mascots, still waiting for the busses that were late. As if some cosmic force were arranging a game board, a nearly equal number of mascots were feeling kinship with the boys and their aims.

The assembled girls shouted out in a roar. They were _not _calling out in anger and disbelief for their own sake, but rather for their Club Captain and Class Representative. They would all die before letting any harm befall their leader.

"You others know what to do," Sousuke said, watching moments later as softball team members took on leadership roles, teaching newcomers what they had been taught. "Everyone, be glad in this fact: If we fight, we conquer." If Sun Tzu was good fodder, so was Confucius.

_A loud roar filled the air._

"But, now… **be silent."** He lowered his arms in a gesture to reinforce his words. "I say the future is ours…if you can count! Now, look what we have here before us. We've got the Softball Club…sitting next to Tea Ceremony Club. We've got the Girl's Archery Team…right by the English Conversation Club. Nobody is dissing nobody. That…is a miracle. And miracles is the way things ought to be. You're standing right now with members from fifteen clubs. And there's at least fifteen more. That's more than thirty hard-core clubs. Can you dig it? _Can you dig it?_ _**Can**_… _**you**_… _**dig**_… _**it?!"**_

YEAH!

"Now here's the sum total," Sousuke continued, sounding tougher than any gang leader could. "One club could run this school. One huge combined club. Nothing would move without us allowing it to happen. We could tax the system… the teachers… the administrators… the boys… because we got the fields, suckers! Can you dig it?"

RIGHT ON!

"The problem in the past has been the boys turning us against one another. We have been unable to see the truth, because we've been fighting for one hundred square foot club rooms… our turfs, our individual little pieces of turf. That's _**crap**_, sisters. Each turf is ours by right. Because it's _our _turn!"

He held his hand out, stopping another group shout.

We can do it!

That response was quiet and measured. Sousuke nodded his head. "Be meek… in appearance only…." Time for some Sun Tzu again. "The clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on her. Appear at points which the enemy must hasten to defend; march swiftly to places where you are not expected. We can form a single united body, while the enemy must split up into fractions. Hence there will be a whole pitted against separate parts of a whole, which means that we shall be many to the enemy's few. To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself. Rapidity is the essence of war: take advantage of the enemy's unreadiness, make your way by unexpected routes, and attack unguarded spots."

"Sousuke Sagara ain't got _nothin'_ on our Kaname,"

"Damn skippy!"

"But… what about _them_…." One girl from the Ikebana Club pointed to separate groups of adults heading out onto the field. Some were club advisors, while others were staff members who had heard about large numbers of students gathering in an uncharacteristic manner.

"We owe allegiance to one another," Shiori spoke up, smiling when 'Kaname' nodded her head.

"We won't target them," Tomomi said. "But it would serve them well to stay out of our way!" That brought shouts of agreement.

"Now," Sousuke said. "How we are going to win!" That had the girls excited, hearts filled with fire and imaginations dreaming of victory. "All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and _crush_ him. If your opponent is of easily angered, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant." There was something else that he understood. In order to annihilate the enemy, his girls must be roused to anger. And, to provide them some advantage from defeating the enemy, he must offer them their rewards. So, he mentioned all of the put downs and slurs he had heard the boys make throughout the day. He recalled all of the innuendo and sexual comments they had said. He dreamed up possible outcomes from the coming ordeal, things he would certain would play on the girl's sense of inequity, injustice, and supposed impotence.

"And, there is also _this,"_ Sousuke said, looking behind him and seeing a growing cloud of dust. The enemy forces were on the move in force. He hoped that more reinforcements would arrive soon, or he would have to mount a seeming retreat, keeping the boys at a safe distance until his numbers grew large enough. "When we win, just think of the bragging rights! How many boys do you think will speak out of line, _then?!"_

"We're going to murderize them," Rumiko said, putting her hand out.

"I pity the fools," Daidai remarked, putting her hand atop Rumiko's.

Other girls commented, and all eventually had their hands stacked up. After removing 'his' hand, Sousuke smiled. He assigned temporary command to Maya.

"There is something I need to get," he said. "I _shall_ return."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**CHUO-KU WARD, TOKYO**

Miyamoto Bokuden sat in the pilot chair of the orange-colored Venom Arm Slave.

He was still trying to settle himself down. A large bit of his seething anger and resentment belonged to Jindai Highschool and that bitch, Ayame. A smaller burning pit of rage centered in his stomach was dying down. That came from the Amalgam pilot who refused his order to give him control of the A.S. He now lay dying down below on the concrete parking lot.

"They made fun of me as a model. They mocked my craft." He checked the Venom's readouts, particularly those pertaining to the Lambda Driver. "We'll see how much they mock me when I return to their little school, and stomp it and them into the ground." He reached down to the custom made communications console and worked a dial. "We'll see who's having fun, then." The soothing sounds of classical music filled the cabin.

"Anything by Einaudi transports me to another world, where I can dream to my heart's content," Mr. Magnesium said_. "This_ piece in particular. Those water sounds are quite apropos, with the ocean so near." It was 'Elegy for the Arctic' by Ludovico Einaudi. The gentle, lyrical pianism of that Italian composer-pianist was the perfect way to ease the stresses of the day. "Let's check the Bat's progress again."

The Bat he referred to was the Chazaqiel, a mammoth RPV with a wingspan close to two American football fields in length, and one that had been built by contributions from his family, under the aegis of one of the Amalgam upitty-ups. It could serve many purposes… bomber in land wars… anti-ship and anti-submarine missions… cargo carrier… and troop transport. But, thanks to one feature in particular, it could serve another role, one which would be quite beneficial.

"I wouldn't get halfway to the damn school if I tried to walk through the city," Miyamoto said. "Likewise, no helicopter could even reach me, to transport me to my destination." Seeing that the aircraft was only thirty minutes away, headed straight for his location, he pushed a button on the control console that caused a small door to flip open. The bright orange button beneath that door had a dark figure etched into it, one shaped like a dirigible. "This should be fun." He pushed the button.

A compartment on the rear of the A.S. slid open. A loud hissing noise _could_ be have been heard by the figures in earshot,_ if_ they had not all been shot in the ear. Helium cannisters discharged their contents, helping the self-inflating balloon fill. The process would take some time, give the size of the balloon. When it was released, it would float skyward, attached to a long synthetic cable stronger than steel, a cable that was also attached to the Venom.

The nose of the RPV sported the two prongs characteristic of the Fulton surface-to-air recovery system, also known as 'Skyhook.' That was a concept borrowed from the aerial retrieval system used by the Central Intelligence Agency, United States Air Force, and United States Navy for retrieving persons on the ground using aircraft such as the MC-130E Combat Talon I and Boeing B-17. That system involves using an overall-type harness and a self-inflating balloon with an attached lift line. An aircraft engages the line with its V-shaped yoke and the person is reeled on board. Red flags on the lift line guide the pilot during daylight recoveries; lights on the lift line are used for night recoveries.

The American recovery kits had been designed for one and two-man retrievals. Five hundred feet of high-strength, braided nylon line and a dirigible-shaped balloon inflated by a helium bottle were used in the set-up, one developed by inventor Robert Edison Fulton, Jr. in the early 1950s. It was an evolution from a similar system that was used during World War II by American and British forces to retrieve both personnel and downed assault gliders following airborne operations. The earlier system did not use a balloon, but a line stretched between a pair of poles set in the ground on either side of the person to be retrieved. An aircraft, usually a C-47 Skytrain, trailed a grappling hook that engaged the line, which was attached to the person to be retrieved.

"Let's double check," the model said. He toggled through a touch screen list of inventory items aboard Chazaqiel, and found that the ones he had requested were indeed aboard, loaded into their drop pods. The items in question were built by his family, too. Built from pilfered plans belonging to another Amalgam member. _"Excellent._ The more the merrier."

He yawned, and then stretched out some. He was bored, but happy to be so inclined. He didn't want anything to ruin his mood, or impede his plans. It was good fortune, that the local military had become lax and indecisive after their efforts prior to his arrival. That's the kind of thing that happens when one side has the Lambda Driver, and the other side does not. Still, someone with even two brains cells to rub together could think of sniping the balloon.

Whistling a happy tune, with a rhythm far different than the beautiful music that was playing, he drummed his fingers on his control stick, pursing his lips. He was trying to think of a Classical Music playlist… for his brief flight… and for the joyful jaunt that would commence when he touched down.

"Of course," he said, smiling. "Something exciting. Something scintillating and exhilarating. Wagner." A WiFi connection gave him access to numerous music databases. He downloaded 'Flight of the Valkyries.' Some might consider his choice to be so cliché that it approached corny; but, he didn't care. He closed his eyes and pictured a scene from 'Apocalypse Now.' He chuckled and said "I love the smell of burning schools in the afternoon. It smells like vengeance."

Before adding more pieces, he checked a readout. The RPV had descended to an appropriate height above the ground, and was lowering its airspeed. He put on an extra set of harness belts. There would be a serious jolt when the time came.

"Please place all trays in the upright position!" He laughed at his joke. He doubted that anyone who caught sight of Chazaqiel was laughing.

Out at sea, a group of fishing boats proved his conjecture to be spot on. Eerily silent for a craft so huge, the RPV sped over the busy boats, while the men were hauling in nets. As a huge shadow blotted out the sun, they looked up, shocked at what they saw. To them, the dark flying wing looked like an impossibly large pteranodon or eagle. "Kami… kami…." They cried. Some bowed. Some covered their eyes. One man leaped into the sea. The boats rocked violently as the RPV flew over them. "It's… it's Rodan!"

Trying to massage out a sudden crick in his neck, he checked the inventory again. He considered bringing some aerial drones out to play. Pilotless copies of the Soviet Mikoyan MiG-41, the drones could be considered sixth generation aircraft, as the Soviet interceptors were merely generation 5++. Armed with an array of air-to-air missiles and an anti-missile laser, each was capable of Mach 4 to 4.3, and could operate at very high altitudes, and even in near space. But, they were just as adept at bombing runs, and carried a set of small thermobaric munitions.

"No," he said. "I can't be greedy. The Bat needs those." The aircraft could be launched in quick succession from the RPV, useful in countering any Mithril aircraft or anything sent into the air by the primitives of his former nation. He checked the status of the second uninflated balloon. The icon on the viewscreen was green, meaning 'Good to Go.' That was good to know. He'd like to get off of this blasted island when he finished with his frolicking. The RPV would double back and pick him up a second and final time.

Brahms - Academic Festival Overture. Saint-Saens - Piano Concerto No. 2 (second movement). Dvorak - Symphony No. 5 (Third movement). Jupiter from The Planets by Holst. The Alcotts (movement III) from Charles Ives' Concord Sonata. He would choose two or three from that shortlist.

"Oh, lest I forget." Mr. Magnesium added the third movement of Dittersdorf's Harp Concerto in A Major to his list. It would serve as his exit piece. "To serenade all of the new angels on their journey up to Heaven."

He rummaged through a glove box, looking for a candy bar or a pack of mini-donuts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**AFTER SCHOOL ACTIVITIES REDUX**

After start-up procedures were complete, and a second batch of eggs now sat ready under the tarp, Sousuke put on his white costume, briefly feeling the way he did when he slid into Arbalest's pilot seat for the first time.

On that nostalgic note, he drove his creation out onto the school grounds.

Standing on the platform, vision somewhat hindered by the Rabbit Suit's eye slots, he felt as if he were bottled up in a tank from the second World War. No. With the exhilaration he was feeling, he took on the vibe of a commander in charge of tanks. This must be how General Johannes Erwin Eugen Rommel felt, watching as his Afrika Corps was about to put to rout the British forces at Benghazi, or how General George Smith Patton Jr. must have felt, on the eve of his historic journey through France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Czechoslovakia, and Austria.

A strong wind whipped around him, gusting throughout the athletic field, blowing his ridiculous ears this way and that, and ruffling his fluffy white tail. He stood like a warrior on the beach, praying for a divine wind, a typhoon to destroy one of the two of the 13th Century's invading Mongol fleets, each so mighty that they would otherwise have successfully invaded Japan. But, realistically, it was the girls who had to weather a storm. Unless he could make a difference. Once again, the fate of many rested on 'his' young shoulders.

"Let's give it a test!" He fired off a couple of eggs, watching as they splattered on the bricks at the back of the school building. "It fires low right. I will compensate." His next few shots hit where he wanted them too. He also gave the mechanical base a run through, going forward and back, left and right, and spinning in place. He had a good feel for the controls now. Putting to his eyes a pair of binoculars he had swiped from the archery supply closet on the way out, he saw that the battle was about to start without him. "It is not a problem." His arrival, and the firepower that he brought with him, would bring the shock and the awe, once the boy's attention was fully locked on the girls.

He felt the hairs on the back of 'his' human neck go up. There were people behind him. He quickly turned his body, leaving his vehicle still. His concern soon vanished. It was club members, but _not _sports members.

And, as it turned out, the students… who had received text messages about an assembly growing at phenomenal speed… all sided with the plight of the girls, boys included. He could tell that from their conversations, but did not deign to join in, so not to give away 'his' identity. The movie club members present were split on their feelings of the symbolism they sensed. Some said that the sight of a white rabbit reminded them of the famous Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, tasked with guarding the cave home of the Legendary Black Beast of Arrrghhh in the film 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.' Sousuke was fortunate that no one on the boys' side had thought to bring along a Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch. To other movie club members, heads spinning from the unfathomable conflict, and hearts on the verge of 'waking up,' he would seem better suited to be the White Rabbit, a character in 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,' serving as a herald-like servant of the King and Queen of Hearts. They should all follow the white hare, the way that Neo did in 'The Matrix,' one boy said.

Another boy countered that claim, saying that they should _not _follow the whire rabbit, recounting Mako Mori's near tragedy in 'Pacific Rim.' Only one other student sided with him. They both headed back indoors. One girl felt somewhat ambivalent. She willing to follow the will of the majority; but, she had a feeling of foreboding, remembering that the computer file used to shut down the security systems in 'Jurassic Park' was named 'white rabbit .obj'

The sole boy in the Rock Music Club who had not joined the boy's side began singing quietly to himself:

"_One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small  
And the ones that mother gives you, don't do anything at all_

_Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall_

_And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall  
Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call_

_And call Alice, when she was just small_

_When the men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go  
And you've just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is moving low_

_Go ask…_

_Go ask Alice, I think she'll know."_

"That… over there…" Sousuke heard another voice call out, as more students joined the growing group. _"That_ has to be the hero we need."

"Where?" another voice called out. "Behind the rabbit?"

"No," the first voice replied. "It _is_ the rabbit!"

"You silly sod," a third voice said. "You almost got us all worked up."

"That's not just any rabbit," another voice claimed. "It's the most foul, cruel and bad-tempered rodent you _ever_ set eyes on."

"**You tit!"** A voice exclaimed. "I almost soiled myself hearing that."

"That rabbit looks to have a vicious streak a mile wide." The first voice said. "It's a killer. It would do _you_ up a treat, mate."

"What would he do," a skeptic asked. "Nibble my bum?"

"What are we waiting for," a boy from the ham radio club asked, stepping out from the crowd and advancing beyond Sousuke. "Come on, now. Let's move along. We aren't helping anyone hanging back _here."_ He started marching forward, but not as quickly as his bravado would suggest.

"No," a girl from the theater club said, her hands fluttering. "We should wait. The two sides could work things out. We don't want to force anyone's hands, _do_ we?"

"**Shut up!"** A pimple-faced boy from the Gournet club said, chewing on some wild boar jerky. _"Charge!"_ It took a few steps for him to get his corpulent body in gear. As the group of boys out on the field began _their_ charge, he stopped, turned around, and yelled "Run away… run a-wayyyy-yyy-yy-y…."

A few joined him, seeing that teachers and counselors were heading further out, and might be inclined to punish anyone they might recognize. Those teachers were overconfident, certain that the students recognized their authority. They would nip things in the bud soon enough!

Unlike the Wonderland rabbit, who had a tendency to say "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late," Sousuke Sagara, in Kaname Chidori, and in cognito, would be right… on… time. He had been watching as the two groups of combatants began their initial moves. The first steps of the Waltz unfolded in aa expected and somewhat orderly fashion, a false front for the mind-blowing chaos that would soon follow. The boys had moved en masse, and had stopped in a great long line, three boys or more deep. The were brandishing baseball backs, bowling pins, tennis rackets, and electric guitars. They were holding them aloft, shouting and calling out taunts. If there had been torches and pitchforks available, they would have grabbed them, too. The girls gravitated into small groups, huddling together, crying or calling out for help. A large number went to hide in the dugouts. One had taken her bra off without removing her shirt, and was waving that undergarment like a white flag, a move that only served to fire the boys up more.

The boys' motivation was clear enough. Many carried a motherload of misplaced anger and a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness. A good number felt a need for dominance, an urge to have power over something or some_one. _Not a few wanted vengeance or revenge against a certain girl or certain clique. Their plan was simple enough. In the old days, it would have been frogs down blouses and pigtails in inkwells. But, this was the modern day. They had grabbed athletic gear, prepared to harass the girls in any way and _every_ way possible… not averse to sneaking in a grope or two, or accidentally falling and pulling down some bloomers, just like in manga and anime. Their expectations were universal. Every boy in the army of aggressors was certain that the girls would offer no resistance, and would instead cry and plead for mercy. They would be easy prey.

The baseball Captain had three aluminum bats in hand. He struck them against one another, repeatedly.

"Girls… come out and play. Gir-rrl-rrls… come outand_ play-ay-ay._ **GIRRRLLLSSS**… **COME OUT AND** _**PLAY-AY-AYYYYY-YYYY-YYY-YY-Y!"**_

The resemblance to an iconic scene from 'The Warriors' was striking.

"Wait for it," Sousuke said to no one in particular, as he watched the boys run towards the girls. 'The Battle of The Jindai Fields' had begun. "Wait for it." With his training and a proper strategem, the ladies might be able to win the war themselves; but, he wanted to finish things as quickly as possible. There were a myriad of different reasons for _that _sentiment. He selected an area he expected the first significant impact between forces to take place, and slowly crept in that direction. "The clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him." He searched for the ring leaders, the rude and rambunctious boys from his class. They would be his primary targets. Break _them,_ and he might break them all.

"**Stop!"** One girl cried out, holding up her palm. "We'll tell the school officials."

"_We'll text your parents,"_ another girl said. "Or call the police."

"**Boy's rule!"** Boys called out in response, closing in on the girls. "Girls drool!"

"_Guys rock!"_ More boys shouted, waving their guitars and drum sticks. "Gals suck _." That last word was drowned out by a huge mass shout.

"**A-T-T-A-C-K!"** That singular shout could be heard blocks away.

The boys expected that battleshout to have girls peeing their panties. Instead, it had the girls' anticipation growing, as groups of boys split away from the whole, to rush towards the various small groups of girls. The lasses would be patient. The counteroffensive would start any moment now.

The sound of music filled the air. The remaining healthy members of the Band… with the remaining intact instruments… were not going to take sides. Instead, they began an impromptu soundtrack for the escalading encounter. The first piece was their version of "Moonlight Densetsu" from the famous magical girl anime series of the nineties, 'Bishōjo Senshi Sailor Moon.' Those who had no instrument began dancing in their trademark style, choreographed by band members themselves, inspired by the "Burn the Floor" ballroom dance show.

"WHYYYYY-YYYY-YYY-YY-Y?"

The club advisors and teachers had moved in between the two groups, only to be bowled over and trampled by the adrenalin-crazed boys.

Attracted by all the noise and motion, left-over dog packs rushed to nip at anything that moved. The History teacher, Hirofumi Ienaga, too slow to be among the trampled teachers, shouted out "Cry 'Havoc', and let slip the dogs of war!"

"This'll do!" A gang of yanki had come to the school, looking to cause trouble in response to the day's earlier events. They would attack anyone who caught their fancy. It would have served them better to stay home. Ditto for the actor from Mr. Balls, who had decided it was a good time to strike back at that towel girl, if he could find her. Who could see what he did to her in this mob? The delinquent youths and the grossly inappropriate adult crossed paths with some school officials, without knowing. Students blocked their views, as the limping Vice President came on the scene, followed by the bandaged Librarian. Even Mr. Kogure joined in, having just been released from his administrative leave. He dragged boy after boy off, nearly stretching their ears in the process. He hoped that Sagara would be out here, too. He would give _him_ special attention, despite his recent admonishment. A wave of boys from cram school ran onto the field as well, hurrying to shield the girls. They sped past a group of guys on the sidewalk wearing their Monks colors. Licking their lips, the gang members thought about playing with a pretty girl or two. Thinking back to a particular blue-haired girl, they quickly changed their mind.

The boys had expected powder puffs, and had found buzzsaws. They were shocked, as the dainty fluttering butterflies turned into blood-crazed harpies.

"**GIRL POWER!"** Maya scouted.

That was the signal to act. The girls in the dugouts rushed out, heading after the nearest groups of boys who had split off from the herd. The Amazons, daughters of Ares and Harmonia, a nymph of the Akmonian Wood, were brutal and aggressive, and their main concern in life was war. They would have taken notes, watching those girls that day. But, there was an even fiercer group out there now. Whether it came from the boredom of waiting… the stress from the telethon… or simply from their various municipal rivalries… the mascots tore into one another with a brutality that would have left a Roman legion with the shakes.

Paiko, the bird with huge breasts, slapped Marimokkori, the green algae-man with a bulging penis, to the ground, and dropped an atomic elbow to his head. Momiji-kun, the pink deer with a shotgun bull-rushed the strange-eyed Reruji-san, and put him in a vicious leg lock. Airplane and eel hybrid Unari-kun knocked down the creepy Okazaemon with a flaying tackle, then proceeded to whack him with her wings. Pink ninja Shinobi-chan pummeled the ghastly Meron-chan with her sword, before tripping him with a leg sweep, and jumping up and down on his groin like it was a trampoline. Enema penguin Kan-chan bowed serenely and politely to Akkuma, the purple alien bear holding a guitar. Then, unleashing a fusillade of swear words that would make a dockworker cringe, she steamrolled her adversary, and played his head like it was a drum. The unpredictable Chi-tan ran about attacking random mascots from either side, always ending with the 1,000 year of pain finger jutsu.

_Then, there was Gloomy Bear. _

"You believe that the strong exist to cull the weak," Hiroshi said inside the costume. "To use them as food. But you are mistaken... the strong exist, not to feed off of the weak, but to _protect _them!" Fighting for the girls, naturally, he was a force of nature, thanks to his powered exo-skeleton. He was leaping here and somersaulting there. His hand pieces could rotate. He was using the 'reverse blade' claws, playing the role of Kenshin Himura. Mascot after mascot went flying, head pieces and costume attachments bouncing and rolling along the grass. He surged into a pile of adversaries like a bowling ball into a full set of ten pins, blasting them skyward, their shouts and cries unheard in the din. "You can use whatever technique you like, but now that I said I will beat you... your defeat tonight has been assured!"

While the bear might be a tornado, Sousuke was a typhoon. Moving forward, with club members stalking behind him like infantry behind a tank, he unleashed hell. He had initially wished that he could use Bonta-kun, but soon changed his mind.

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…**

Remarkably, the tennis ball machine fired with metronic precisions, launching its eggy projectiles with vim and vigor. The impacts were the stuff of legends. One shouting boy took an egg straight in the kisser, spitting up chunks of egg and an incisor in an explosion of white and chunky yellow. Another raider took an egg to the ear, leading to intense pain, vertigo, and temporary deafness. He was stunned. What the hell had just happened?! Two other fighters were struck before any of the bullies had an inkling that something had gone very wrong. One, preparing to swing a lacrosse stick, had two eggs bounce off of his nipples, left stinging beneath his uniform. The other, about to toss a bowling ball as a deadly projectile, took a wicked shot to the testicles. Before keeling over, he dropped his heavy load on his foot. Exploding egg bits filled the air, like a thick snow mixed with yellow blossoms. Finally clued-in, boys with tennis rackets, baseball bats, and cricket bats began defending themselves and their comrades.

Originating among German Lutherans, the Easter Hare originally played the role of judge, evaluating whether children were good or disobedient at the start of the season of Eastertide. The young operative had _no_ doubt which side of the fence the massed boys fell on. He felt qualified to play judge, jury, and executioner.

"Uncommon valor is a common virtue," Sousuke said, watching the girls as he waited for more clear targets. "When the enemy's men were united, good generals managed to keep them in disorder." He began firing again when a group of boys gathered together, to form a bulwark against advancing girls:

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…**

Those girls were wonders to behold. They had initial control of the battleground; they and their allies from non-sports clubs and cram school. The boys that they fought against had arrived on the scene eager to antagonize and demoralize, but not to penalize in any physical way. Thanks to 'Kaname's' tutelage, the girls had no such qualms whatsoever. As an example, girls were honoring Kaname Chidori's iconic past by throwing every softball and baseball base they could lay their hands on, along with everything else in dugouts and equipment racks that wasn't bolted down or held in place by concrete. For the discombobulated boys, it was as if they had stepped into a Circle of Hell that Dante had neglected to mention, or had been too afraid to venture into. They were hit with embarrassing combos, like something out of 'The Three Stooges.' They were overwhelmed by machinegun fast slap attacks that would have left a veteran MMA fighter weak in the knees. They were the recipient of every conceivable way to use animate and inanimate objects to strike the groin area, gluteal region, or to introduce face to elbows, knees, and ground.

Mr. Watsugi, the Classical Japanese Teacher watched, spellbound. He was a big fan of battles, real or celluloid. The girls efforts had his spirit soaring, as if he were watching the thrilling helicopter attack scene from 'Apocalypse Now;' the graphic and realistic Omaha Beach landing in 'Saving Private Ryan;' the stunning Battle at Helms Deep in 'Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers;' or the opening battle scene in 'Gladiator.' No. It was greater than those. It was like being on the set of the 1970 movie 'Waterloo,' where fifteen thousand Russian troops were hired as extras, and the French charge against the British formations had thousands of soldiers in a single scene. "Far better than CGI," he mused. Watching the boys had him feeling somewhat embarrassed for his gender. Their efforts reminded him of the battle of Endor from 'Star Wars: Return of the Jedi,' where a bunch of overgrown teddy bears with makeshift weapons defeated the Empire's frighteningly efficient professional armored troops with modern weapons of all shapes and sizes. That, and another Star Wars clunker, the Battle of Naboo from 'The Phantom Menace,' whose overall sin was to prompt feelings of 'who cares,' and whose greatest failure was to leave Jar Jar Binks alive. Impressed he called out: "You girls are good… _real _good…." His words might bring to mind Masai, from 'The Warriors.'

"THE BEST!" Shiori shouted in return, echoing Swan from that film.

**Bam… bam… bam…**

Sousuke had to stop firing, temporarily. He couldn't keep watch on threats to his own position, if he put his full attention into selecting possible targets. But, he wanted to be certain that the primary antagonists were singled out and given appropriate punishment. _How?_ Oh. _That_ might work. "You there, boy!" He called out to Shinji, who was running around filming everything as he had been told to. The mild and meek boy was gleeful, seeing that the recorded events would shame the bullies no end. _"Come here! Now!"_ 'He' had to disguise his voice, so his friend would recognize Kaname. _**"Spot for me!"**_ He tossed his binoculars to him. "This is your chance to payback your tormentors."

"Oooo-ooo-oo-o.," Shinji said. "I'm so hap_pyyy-yy-y." _He put the fieldglasses up to his spectacles and began directing fire. This was like being in the military. If only there were Arm Slaves involved. There were a few episodes of friendly fire; but, he was doing his best. The combatants from both sides were mixed together, with a smaller number of girls somehow surrounding a larger group of boys, who were growing more and more frantic by the moment. Things were definitely not working out the way that they had foreseen. "Two degrees right… mid field range…."

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… **

One of the baseball ringleaders took solid hits from four eggs, leaving him disoriented and an easy target for the nearest girls. One notable projectile carried the words 'Audie Murphy rules!'

"Thirty degrees left… far field….." Shinji continued. "Next to that creepy guy trying to fondle Rumiko."

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam**… was followed by **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam… **

A boy from the soccer club doubled over in pain, just before the actor from Mr. Balls did the same. Neither would be standing up or singing naturally for a good while. One of the eggs bore a Sharpie tattoo that read: 'Hate is the real Cancer.'

Fifteen degrees near field, a cluster of five," Shinji said in a rush. "Fire at will!" One of the boys was named William, coincidentally. "Six more. Let them have it!"

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (and so forth and so on).

Boys from all manners of clubs and activities were peppered with eggy projectiles, exploding with enough egg parts to feed the entire school breakfast for the next morning. One noteworthy egg was inscribed: 'Mardukas sucks!'

"Keep firing!" Shinj shouted, something catching his eyes. "More hostiles! Fire… fire… fire!"

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (etc.)

Sousuke concentrated fire on the opportune targets that had wandered into his field of fire: the group of vengeful yanki who had joined up with an equally angry group of motorcycle gang members, whose comrades had been taken down in gruesome and ungodly fashion earlier that day. They too would eventually find their own way to any number of hospital Emergency Rooms.

"Hold your fire!" Shinj called out. "Fiendlies… _sort_ of…."

**Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam…** **bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (pause) **Bam… bam… bam… bam… bam…** (etc.)

Souuske kept firing, old grudges still roosting in his heart. Most of the shots struck the Vice Principal while missing the nearby Librarian. A few shots also struck Mr. Kogure, when Sousuke 'accidentally' moved the machine turret a bit to the right.

"_FRIEND_-LEES!" Shinji shouted. "MORE _FRIEND_-LEES!" He added "I _guess_."

Sousuke held his fire, going through a heated mental debate. Tsubaki and the Karate Club were serving as agents of justice, rushing from one group of girls to another, to offer their assistance in the most heroic and exaggerated manner possible. They all froze, seeing the bouncing boobs of a couple of girls whose natural enhancements were more than their sports bras could contain. Slack-jawed and drooling, they were viewed by one group of girls as perverts, and were soon the victims of their displeasure.

"Oh no… Tsubaki…." Mizuki ran to the karate boy's side. "You need mouth to mouth resuscitation." She could clearly see that he was conscious.

Sousuke had Misuki and Tsubaki in his mental crosshairs, but held his fire. A sudden rush of motion caught his eyes. A group of boys had identified him as a major threat, and the tennis ball machine as a potential game-breaking weapon. They ran at him full tilt.

**Bam… bam… bam**… thnn… thnn… thnn…

Three eggs had an equal number of boys tripping, falling, and cartwheeling. But, after those three successful shots, the egg hopper was empty. Thinking quickly, Sousuke dismounted and moved into action, a speedy white blur as Shinji dropped the binoculars and brought his video recorder back to his eye.

"Kick _asssss-ssss-sss-ss-s_…." Before he knew it, Shinji was filming Kyouko photographing the New Night of the Lepus. Then, he was filming Kyouko photographing him. Caught up in the camera duel, the two of them forgot everything else for a while, victims of their own habits.

Shinji was knocked over by a group of boys running from a larger group of girls. Kyouko was bumped aside and almost flattened by a pair of battling mascots. She was rescued by Ono-D, who grabbed her arm and tugged her to safety. She slumped in his arms, but not before snapping a photograph of his serious face. "Don't worry," Ono-D said, energetically. "It is my duty to keep you safe from harm."

"**Shit!"** Shinji said. It wasn't because he was in any kind of pain. It was because of how cliché and corny his friend sounded.

Sousuke, rabbit ears thrown back by centrifugal force, performed a martial arts move that looked like break dancing to everyone watching. The onrushing boys were stopped dead in their tracks and sent flying, ass over tea kettle. He borrowed Kaname's suplex move again, to put one boy out of everyone's misery, and then used a pile driver to finish off another.

Sitting on 'his' rump, he stared quizzically, seeing a small cat scamper past, followed by a small boy. _"Please_ come back, Hideki!" That boy was Momotaro, of course. Following close behind the boy, having promised to help him catch his furry friend, there was a line of men dressed in black mourner's robes, with large red sashes.

Just as the marching band switched songs, taking up 'A Cruel Angel's Thesis' from Neon Genesis Evangelion, the young soldier jumped back on his steed, and set the treads spinning. He hurried back inside to gather up the remaining eggs.

His absence almost proved costly for the girls. The hardcore sports boys were not dissuaded by the opposing gender's gender in the slightest. No, it was quite the opposite. With no thought of chivalry or political correctness, they viewed the girls' violent actions as a blueprint, and as provocation and permission to truly cut loose. Bats… soccer balls… shinai… badminton racquets… and more were used as weapons, as was ink from Calligraphy club… fresh fruit and vegetables from Cooking club… and an entire full-length net from the volleyball court. The Wrestling team even carried out their largest competition mat, and began performing tried and true moves on the opposing girls.

Not growing any moss, Sousuke rushed back on the scene, replenished. In too big of a hurry to get back in the action, he neglected to scan the surround for possible threats. Two groups of boys converged from either flank, looking to knock him hard from his commanding perch. They would have succeeded, if not for the timely action of a bruised and brave collection of young men. Ironically, not knowing who the Rabbit might be, the members of the Kaname Chidori Fan Club did to the other boys what they had failed to do to Mr. Ciocio.

"Thank you for your service, citizens." Sousuke put his tracked vehicle into full gear and began a roving attack. Things had spread out enough to have given him avenues to roll down. As he watched, he realized what had caused the wide gaps in the fight. Ren had joined neither side, and had become trapped by both. Frantic, she awaited her doom, until a knight with shining glasses appeared. Walking slowly, as if he were the only one on the field, Atsunobu strolled towards the frightened girl. As he walked, the crowd parted as if they were the Red Sea, and the boy was Moses with his staff. He took off his coat and put it around her, to keep her safe from harm. They slowly made their way back to school, and the avenues filled in again.

The band wasn't the only group who maintained a neutral stance. The special effects members of the Theatre Club had come out late, but were determined to put their talents to work. What could possibly be a bigger opportunity than this? They set off sonic devices, designed to simulate cannon shots. They launched pyrotechnics, causing greats flashes of light in the sky, followed by ominous clouds of black smoke. They dumped large amounts of dry ice in huge barrels of hot water, producing vigorous bubbling water and a voluminous flowing fog. They moved from barrel to barrel in sequential manner, seeing that the peak effects of any container would last only five or ten minutes. The eerie blanket of vapor spread out over parts of the field, reminiscent of the fog seen in an early battle of 'The Last Samurai.'

"Maintain your line," Maya called out. "Hold your fire until my command!" She turned to look at Shiori, who tried to hide a limp, but couldn't conceal the big welt on th side of her face. "You stay in the rear."

"No disrespect," Shiori replied. "But you can shove that order up your ass!" She stayed by Maya's side. Tomomi and Rumiko walked over and stood at the flanks of that pair.

While those young ladies were staunch companions, that was not true of everyone, especial those girls who were not part of a team, and had never bonded with their club members. Catching sight of the boys in the fog, and seeing them as dread and powerful spectres, they threw their weapons too soon, or turned and beat a cowardly retreat.

"This is a problem," Sousuke said. The ringleader boys moved to drive the girls back. Those girls were quite willing to dish out pain; but, even after their thirty-minute Boot Camp, they were still allergic to cuts and contusions, bumps and bruises. Even with his firepower, he would not be able to drive off or incapacitate enough boys to keep the girls from being seriously stung. That is, he would not be able to do it alone.

_He was not alone._

"Here we come to save the _dayyyyy-yyyy-yyy-yy-y!"_ That was one of the Engineering Club members, wearing a backpack with a car battery, and carrying the Dazzler from HAL2000. He and a buddy had been over at cram school.

"There's no need to fear," another Engineering clubster called out. "Underdog is here!" He carried the defense project's Taser gun, hooked up to a battery he carried in the other hand.

"_We'll_ help too!" A girl from the Gourmet club carried a huge metal cannister of red pepper in one arm, and tighly gripped a sizeable plastic scoop in her free hand. The girl next to her carried a similar cannister filled with black pepper.

"And _us!"_ A boy and a girl from the Theater Club carried huge fabric fans atop stout wooden poles.

"Let's ride," Sousuke said, moving at a speed the other six could keep up with. That Magnificent Seven moved into action, with the six new arrivals watching as Sousuke sprayed the ground at the combatant's feet, to get their attention and to keep from injuring any more of the girls. The attack served its function well, causing the boys to disengage from their foes. They formed a defensive line; but, following the teachings of Sun Tzu, the moody military maniac would turn that strength into a weakness. Standing still resolutely, the virile boys merely presented an easier target for their strange opponents. They thought that they could simply dodge the eggs, the same way they would dodge a ball or dodge a wrench. They just might have been able to accomplish that feat, had the Rabbit been alone.

"_Now,_ fan boy and fan girl!" Sousuke's command rang out. The boy and girl began moving their fans in great sweeping arcs, blowing huge amounts of air towards the boys. The boys laughed, finding the breeze quite nice.

"_Pepper people!"_ Sousuke called out another order. Bot girls began scooping up spices, and threw them in front of the fans. Clouds of spices travelled like a colorful sandstorm, surrounding the chuckling boys.

"_**What the fuck!"**_ each boy said something similar, eyes watering and bodies racked with coughs and sneezes. The spreading cloud kept the girls and their allies moving further and further back, out of harm's way.

"Geeks," Sousuke bellowed. "Go! _Go!_ _**Go!"**_ As the Dazzler went off once, twice, and thrice, and the taser gun fired five times in succession, Sousuke unleashed another punishing barrage, point blank. He had to pull up short. "Move, dammit! This is not _your _fight! You are aiding the enemy!" A number of newcomers, modern day Good Samaritans, had wandered into the field of fire, continuing a self-important rescue mission they had started while out of Sousuke's view. No _real_ man could watch women being assaulted and do nothing about it.

Eggs splattered on an open umbrella, or ricocheted off, hitting friend and foe alike. Many other eggs were sliced into perfectly equal slices as they flew. Some were hacked into misshapen and broken bits. A few were pierced by well-placed bolts.

"I-" Masatami Hyuga was taken aback; but, his three stalwarts understood the lay of the land. Washio, Sammy, and Hyodo led their master off to another part of the field. They had been out looking for imagawayaki and kakigori vendors after finishing up at the hospital.

The Seven Samurai resumed their advance, whittling down the core group of boys two or three at a time. The girls ran out of spices, just before the couple manning the fans ran out of strength. Both batteries ran low. The final egg fragmented on a forehead.

"**Fall back!"** Sousuke called. Without weapons, the other six were vulnerable, and a weakness. They could be held as prisoners, not that such a ploy would stop _him._ It would simply make his life more difficult, and he had had more than his share of difficult for one day!

As he thought that thought, he heard his cell phone ring. _"Crap!"_ The phone was inside of his bloomers, which were inside of his borrowed costume. "This… is…" He pulled an arm down through the rabbit's arm, slid it down his body, and reached inside his clothing. "Really… awkward…." Now he had to maneuver it up to his mouth, hoping he would be able to hear the caller speak. He could guess who it was. He had heard the same ring tone on Tessa's phone. "Sagara here," he said, not loud enough to be heard outside of the Bunny suit. He eyed the boys, making certain that no one was planning on charging at him.

It was the DaDanaan radio operator on the other end of the line. Politely, he asked Sousuke to hold, as he handed the headset over to someone else. It was Tessa, who hadn't been back onboard for long.

"Sousuke-" Tessa began. "-Are you still at school?" She hadn't walked past the ship's GPS log.

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied. He moved his head, abruptly dodging a kicked soccer ball.

"**Great!"** Tessa said in return. "That's where Arbalest is headed. The rocket should make delivery in a minute or two." Much like during the A21 encounter, the ARX-7 had been in a launch silo, just in case it might be needed in Tokyo. With the latest events, the best guess was that the Amalgam A.S. would strike at the school. With the black hair dye gone, Kaname Chidori was probably back on their radar for kidnapping. Leastwise, that was the possibility that she felt most compelled to cover for. She had no idea that she had chosen the right action for the wrong reason.

"I _see,"_ Sousuke said, emotions churning. The field was never going to be the best landing site during after school activities. That was a million times more certain, _now_. He would need to get on Arbalest anonymously, hoping it didn't flatten dozens of combatants when it touched down. If he had to fight, he would fight near his school, in a crowded neighborhood, during rush hour. Whatever he needed to do, he would have to do it in Kaname's body.

After hanging up with Tessa, he dialed a number and listened for a reply. Holding one hand up in front of the costume's eye slots, the glove now removed and in the Rabbit's mouth, he looked at one finger in particular. He noticed that the ring was a good bit more black than yellow.

An Onmyōji walking past the school looked up at the sky, a paper hitogata clutched in his hand. Reciting a swift prayer, he moved quickly from the vicinity, but not before offering a polite warning to a bedraggled-looking Boy Scout troop, one of whom began swearing up a storm.

"You're not a pedophile, I hope." The woman caught the wise man by surprise, both with her presence, and her words. "But… if you _are_… I hope you wear a condom!" She carried a paper sack filled with pamphlets describing safe sex practices. "If you don't, Auntie Iwasaki will punish you!"

The convergence of so many people that had crossed Sousuke's and Kaname's path could have been a happy coincidence, a sign that things were finally going to go their way. _Could_ have been.

This is Sousuke and Kaname we are talking about, after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_The pot, filled to the gills with ingredients, finally came to a boil. But, that's hardly the finished meal. The main course is rolling in, inside a big metal cart. Can Sousuke finish with _that_, and make it back to the lab in time for dessert?_

Tune in next time….


	17. Chapter 17

_The true final chapter had been drawn up, as a blueprint, if you like (there is an outline and stacks of notes piled on my computer desk). It will take a while to rough-in and then polish. This chapter was going to just be the opening section of the final one; but, since it grew too large when my muse got drunk on power, it will now be a separate chapter in its own right._

_You have my apology._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**THE LABORATORY**

Beginnings.

Beginnings and endings.

Beginnings… endings… and in-betweens.

With all of the new people, new ideas, and new machinery, the two days had been filled with all three things, many times over. But, looking at the ring, Kaname knew that there was a true ending approaching, one which would make all of the amazing activity useless to her, if things didn't go in her favor.

So, when the two doctors… the most brilliant and most irritating, most exasperating, and most polarizing men she had ever met… had begun arguing again, she almost wanted to shout 'ENOUGH' and crawl deep into her shell, like an overheated hermit crab. Almost. Even in Sousuke's body, she was still Kaname Chidori.

"We just need to activate the Quantum Pipe," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "That will cause all of the particles to go the direction we want them to." He was flicking his fingers in the other scientist's face. "Why _else_ did we add the damn thing?!"

"**No… no… no!"** Dr. Necessiter countered. "We need to generate a cloud of cesium atoms in the Chamber, crossed by multiple non-lethal laser beams. Why arrange for that possibility, if times runs out before we can try it?!"

The argument grew hotter and hotter. Both men were close to their limits, too. They were chasing Scientific Discovery down the Rabbit Hole. They were also very concerned for Sousuke and Kaname. They were still sore from Miss Uumellmahaye's last punishment. The words and concepts shot out of both men, like the heated thrust passing through a well-worn afterburner:

Molecular molasses. Alligator waveguides, with teeth that slowed down the speed of light. Photon strength variation. Preventing quantum pinball effect. Causing select atoms to absorb a single photon, unlike the usual situation where all atoms absorb the same photon. Like a rugby scrum, additional scientists, technicians, and engineers joined in.

Anne turned brighter and brighter red, moment by moment. It looked like she was about to explode again, but she had less than enough energy for the tiniest of explosions. This time, it was Kaname who reached over and squeezed _her_ hand. Mollified, the older woman turned to a lead engineer and said: "Do the Quantum Pipe." She thought a moment more. "And do the Cesium injection." The dozens of other ideas would have to wait. Science had all of the time in the world, even if the two high school students did not.

"_Doc_-tors," the way that Reginald said that word, it almost sounded like the basest of insults. "The monkeys are waiting!" His fingers had that 'I want to push the button' itch about them again.

"_Monkeys?"_ Anne looked like she was on the path to a meltdown again, one that would make Chernobyl look like a campfire. "Don't you mean Adam and Eve." Wrong religion again; but, the name that an engineer had suggested stuck. The two subjects looked so pitiful strapped in the Egg, their large wet eyes eliciting emotions in most of the onlookers.

**"Hah hah hah hah hah!"** Dr Hfuhruhurr enjoyed a good belly laugh. "What a numskull. A nincompoop. A nattering nabob." He wiped a tear from his eye, pointing at Reginald. _"Monkey!"_

"_**Fssst!"**_ Dr. Necessiter fought back a loud laugh. "Calling a chimpanzee a monkey. What a halfwit… dunce… dolt… ignoramus… cretin… imbecile… dullard… dumbbell… bonehead… numbskull… pinhead…lamebrain…." He stopped to catch a breath. His eyes twinkled, as he watched a furious Reginald struggling to control his temper.

"I got you, brother." Dr Hfuhruhurr had his friends six. "Peabrain…dipstick… donkey… twit… plonker… prat… pillock… twerp…twonk… dumbass-" He stopped when Dr. Necessiter signaled he was good to go. He passed the figurative baton.

"Muppet," Dr. Necessiter said. "Schmuck…bozo… boob... turkey…chowderhead… goofball… dork… putz… schlemiel… sap… ding-dong… dingbat… dip… simp…yo-yo… dingleberry… asshat… clodpole…." He stopped and fought a sneeze. When he could speak again, he asked "Think that's enough?"

"Yeh," Dr. Hfuhruhurr replied. "We've about used up all of the synonyms on the Google dictionary page." He rubbed his chin. "But we did leave out some simple classics. You know, the type that everyone takes for granted."

"Jerk?" Sr. Necessiter asked, before answering his own query with a nod of his head.

"**Right!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr agreed. "And clown. We can't leave _that _out!"

"We _did _say Bozo, though." Dr. Necessiter remarked. He was referring to the iconic Bozo the Clown, played by Pinto Colvig, an American vaudeville actor, voice actor, newspaper cartoonist and circus performer, whose schtick was playing the clarinet off-key while mugging. Colvig was also the original voice actor for the Disney characters Pluto and Goofy.

"True," Dr. Hfuhruhurr agreed. "Lets lose 'clown', and add wanker."

"Now _that one's _the dog's bollocks!" Dr. Necessiter said, embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that one first.

Kaname just stood their blinking, her mind on idle, trying to conserve energy until some conversation needed her participation, or actually needed intelligent thought to follow. But, there was a glowing warmth in the center of her being. It grew larger. It flared hotter. The magma began rising at a growing speed, approaching the top. Before she knew it, she wanted to erupt. She opened her mouth. She wanted to shout:

THIS IS NOT A JOKE. IT'S MY LIFE!

But, she didn't. She counted to ten. She pictured a clear summer day and a warm and wonderful beach. The rhythmic sounds of the waves were soothing. The cries of the circling seagulls sounded inviting. The smell of cooking squid had her salivating. She had a new bikini on, and Sousuke was ignoring it. She growled internally:

RrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrRrR

No.

Peace. Peace, Kaname. Peace.

She had to admit, her anger _was_ somewhat cathartic. It kept her from brooding, from spinning out of control with anxiety, or folding in upon herself, depressed.

**Wait!**

_Could it be? _

Was that actually their 'evil' plan? Were those two wacky wisemen working hard to distract her? To keep eveyone's spirits churning about, not growing stagnant, and hardening like concrete? No. Probably not. Just as Sousuke Sagara was who he was, these two brilliant nut jobs were who they were. She would bet a year of cream buns on it!

Fortunately, Anne had stepped over to read the EEG and EKG strips from the two primates. She pictured them as astronauts, sitting in their capsule, ready to go where no chimp had gone before.

"Don't you really think that's excessive," a custodian asked the people nearest to him. "I mean, all that baseless blathering is just a small tasteless salad, before we get to the main course." To him, the trial with the chimps was exciting. The drama! He was trembling with anticipation. This was better than slipping his Banana Republic PJs on and watching any of the 'Planet of the Apes movies… or 'King Kong'… 'Might Joe Young'… 'George of the Jungle'… 'Every Which Way But Loose'…'Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla'… or 'Bedtime for Bonzo!' He made a herculean effort to keep his inner ape in check. He had received a stern warning from the police after roughing up a man who called the Lugosi film a lame Martin & Lewis rip-off.

"Some people _like _salad." A vegan technician remarked in a droll manner. "Besides, a man who calls a chimp a monkey no longer has the right to push any buttons!" She shook her head.

"I agree," an engineer said. "While apes and monkeys are both primates, and are part of the same primate suborder, there are lots of differences between them. There are also lots of other sorts of primates."

"**Right!"** Kaname put in, brain switched back on full. Her class had learned about primates in Biology. "The distinction between different primate groups is based on physical characteristics and evolutionary ancestry."

"_Exactly."_ That was another one of the janitors who had been given the unenviable task of cleaning up after the failed experiments. It seemed that everyone was more knowledgeable than good ole Reggie. "The order of primates is characterized by animals with forward-facing eyes and highly flexible arms, legs and fingers. This body structure evolved as an adaptation for life in the trees: Primates have flexible limbs and grasping hands so they can move from branch to branch. The forward-facing eyes are also an adaptation for life in that environment: They give primates excellent depth perception, allowing them to accurately judge the distance between trees."

"Almost _ev-e-ry_body knows that," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said snidely. "The two hundred and thirty five modern primate species are divided up into two suborders, the prosimians and the anthropoids. The prosimians… made up of lemurs and similar animals…. are the more primitive group. They exhibit lower intelligence… like Reg… and they more closely resemble other mammal groups… they typically have whiskers and extended snouts, for example."

"Again like Reggie," Dr. Necessiter quipped. "The prosimians split off from the evolutionary line leading to humans relatively early. Anthropoids… commonly called the higher primates… comprise the rest of the species in the primate order. Anthropoids vary considerably in size, geographical range and behavior, but they all have flat faces, small ears and… unlike someone I will not mention… *cough* Reggie *cough*…have relatively large, complex brains."

"Monkeys are much more like other mammals than apes and humans are," Anne said, joining the conversation, mammalian medical reports clutched in her well-manicured hand. "For example, most monkeys cannot swing from branch to branch, as apes and humans can, because their shoulder bones have a different structure. Instead, monkeys run along the tops of branches. Their skeletal structure is similar to a cat, dog or other four-footed animal, and they move in the same sort of way. On the evolutionary line leading to humans, monkeys and Reginald split off long before apes did." She felt dirty and sophomoric, but she just _had_ to get that dig in.

"What's the easiest way to tell monkeys and apes apart?" A technician said, putting her lipstick away. For some reason, the red cosmetic was smeared on her hand.

"The easiest way to distinguish monkeys from the other anthropoids is to look for a tail," Dr. Hfuhruhurr replied, striking a pose. The technician was damned cute. "_Most _monkey species have tails, but _no_ apes or hominids do." He added: "In traditional and non-scientific use, the term 'ape' excludes humans."

"I have an easier way," Dr. Necessiter said, puffing up. He tried hard not to stare at the young woman's ample chest. _"Memorization!" _He snapped his fingers. "It's simple. There are only a handful of ape species, while there are hundreds of species of monkeys. The apes are gibbon… chimpanzee… bonobo… orangutan… and gorilla."

The two scientists frowned. Immediately after hearing the answers, the woman had turned her attention to a handsome young security guard.

_Typical!_

"Gibbon… chimpanzee… bon bon… orangutan… gorilla…." Reginald repeated that a number of times under his breath." He would never make that mistake again. He just hoped that none of the administrators present would add it to his next Employee Evaluation. Then, straightening his lab coat, he said "The_ chimpanzees_ are ready. We will now-" It didn't matter if lesser beings mocked him. It was because they could not _be _him. The button awaited.

"There is no longer a 'we'," Toyotomi Mitsunari voiced. Then, to be politically correct he added "I thank you for your hard work up until now, Reginald. How about we let Miss Chidori push the button this time. I have a good feeling about that."

"But-" Reginald's eyes bulged. He swallowed hard. "The button-" He closed his eyes. He stood taller, tightening his shoulders. "By all means. Miss Chidori… the button is all yours…." That last word was strangled.

"Alright," Kaname said, feeling that there was only one answer that she could give, being painted into that corner. She looked over at the waiting primates, and offered a silent apology. The one chimp was picking at its nose. The other was flailing its hands, making short shrieking sounds. "After setting the containment field first, _right?"_

"**By all means!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter answered at the same time that Anne did. "Get the lead out!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr was a long-time Led Zeppelin Fan. "Up the irons!" Dr. Necessiter was more partial to Iron Maiden. "World Peace!" Anne had been a fan of Tsu Shi Ma Mi Re since their first EP.

The curtain of light rose from the floor again. Technicians fired up different components and fine tuned the energies, while engineers crossed their fingers or said quick prayers. Everyone else just stood still, half expectant, and half predicting failure again.

"Here we go," Kaname said aloud. Then, after whispering 'Sousuke,' she moved to push the button. It was a solemn moment.

"_Wait!"_ Dr. Hfuhruhurr shouted, causing Kaname to pull her hand back, wondering if she had missed some crucial step.

"**Stop!"** Dr. Necessiter said an instant later. "We are missing a golden opportunity!"

"That's _right,"_ Dr. Hfuhruhurrsaid. "We should put Reggie in with one of the chimps. If he gets smarter… we know the system works!"

"That-" Reginald clenched his hands into fists.

"What comes after enemas," a spent Anne asked herself aloud.

"I will help you figure that out-" Mr. Mitsunari said. "-After this run is finished. My apologies, Miss Chidori. Let's try that again."

Kaname stared at the two scientists, waiting to see if they were going to interject this time, too. They both tried their best to look angelic. Kaname closed Sousuke's eyes… pictured a day when she and Sousuke had shared a bento that she had made… and pushed the button.

Great streaks of blue, red, and yellow lightning shot between buzzing towers. Flares and fountains of sparks crowned the Egg, as the dark interior suddenly pulsed with a swirling miasma of light. A cacophony of every sound imaginable was supplanted by deep throbbing sounds that were felt more than they were heard. Everyone in the crowded room smelled smells that they hadn't smelled since their youth. The air had flavor. The Egg stood dead still; but the rest of the tethered devices shook this way and that, some so violently that it looked like they might break free. Small spirals of smoke spun upward, like wispy pig tails.

"**We will be heros!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr called out, jumping up and down. He meant that in a very specific way. Her was referring to Hero of Alexandria. Two thousand ago, the Thomas Edison of the ancient world lived in Alexandria, Egypt where he tinkered, built and wrote about some of the most amazing and whimsical machines the pre-industrial world had ever seen. While some of the devices may actually have been created earlier by Archimedes, Vitruvius, and Ctesibius, Hero was given credit for the first coin-operated vending machine… the first steam engine… the mechanical puppet theater… the fire engine… a primitive programmable robot… the syringe… among many others.

"And _not _Rube Goldberg!" Dr. Necessiter said, sounding quite certain. That is, before he looked at one of the towering machines. Someone had drawn two Rube Goldberg Cartoons on its side with some kind of red substance. One had the title 'How to Train Your Dog to Stop Chewing.' It depicted a dog chewing on one of three legs of a tall wooden stool. A large bowling ball sat on top of the stool, about to roll off and clobber the toothy pooch. The other drawing was of a man standing in his pajamas, a tube of toothpaste strapped to his forehead, and a gerbil wheel attached to his chest, the running rodent powering a toothbrush on a spring.

Kaname hugged 'herself' tight. She crossed Sousuke's fingers so hard, that they ached. "There's no place like home… there's no place like home." It would be so great to be with Sousuke, instead of _being_ Sousuke. For some reason, she thought back to Hong Kong. Sousuke had just asked why she had been there, and she had almost blurted out her feelings. Instead, she had given some bullshit answer about being the Class Rep. If the two of them returned to normal, would she admit her feelings to herself without some doubt or distracting denouement? Would she share those feelings with Sousuke, even though she harbored some secret fear that he would disappear forever, if she ever let her heart be that vulnerable? Would those feelings still remain, if the work here was unsuccessful?

**_SCREEEK SCREEEK SCREEEK SCREEEK SCREEEK SCREEEK SCREEEK_**

A terrible sound pierced the onlooker's ears, causing everyone to clench their teeth. It was as if a thousand chimpanzees ran their fingernails along a thousand blackboards.

"We have slippage with the Quantum Pipe coupling!" An engineer called out a warning, before he and his fellows quickly moved to brace the structure in question. Dr. Necessiter gave Dr. Hfuhruhurr an 'Et tu, brute' look.

_Flutter flutter flutter flutter flutterflutterflutterflutterflutflutflutflutfluflufluflflflflflfff_

Ears drum were pulled in and pushed out by a waffling wave of air pressure. The witnesses felt as if they were being tickled by a myriad of monkeys. Phew! Monkeys with bad breath. A foul and malevolent odor wafted about the room. Everyone was quick to deny responsibility.

"The cesium cloud is breaking up!" One of the many technicians said, before he and his compatriots began adjusting the machinery. Dr. Necessiter turned away, when Dr. Hfuhruhurr tried to catch his eye.

"This wouldn't have happened if **I** had pushed the button," Reginald sounded self-righteous. Ironically, just as he said that, the whole group of machines began humming as one, everything aligned for the very first time.

The light within the New Magic Egg stopped pulsing. It was a soft red color now, one which seemed to caress and cajole the two simian occupants. The two chimps stopped struggling… closed their wearing eyes… and smiled, heads lifted. They held their arms out, finger tip of thumbs touching finger tips of pointer fingers, almost as if they were striking some kind of tantric pose. The light in the chamber went out. No one could see the interior.

"**Illuminate the chamber!"** Anne called out, as worried about the subjects as she was eager for any sign of success. _"Hurry!"_

A technician flicked a small switch. Soft white light filled the chamber. Both chimpanzees began hooting, before becoming silent again. One picked its nose. The other fluttered its hands. But, something was very different. Very significant. The one picking its nose now, was the one that had been fluttering its hands before the test, and vice versa.

"_Look at that!"_ Mr. Mitsunari exclaimed.

"Yes," Dr. Necessiter said. "That chimp. Picking its nose. I'll christen it Reggie!"

"But-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, willing to play the straight man. "-It's a girl chimp."

"**I know!"** Dr. Necessiter slapped hands with the other scientist.

"Does that mean it worked?" Kaname felt a great surge of hope well up within her, so great that she almost felt as if she might drown from it. "I mean… their actions… they switched…."

"We have to watch a while," Anne said, tears coming to her eyes. She sniffled. "If those actions are not random… and if they persist… I would say we've had a success." She would have said more, but the room erupted with cheers, shouts, and vocalizations of every sort.

With things seemingly a success, a number of people began leaving the laboratory and the rooms adjacent to it, hoping to make it to the street before the other guests, so that they could catch one of the few cabs or buses available. That included a large number of lady scientists and women of various religious sects. For some reason, a whole swarm of them buzzed around Dr. Necessiter and Dr. Hfuhruhurr, handing them pieces of paper or tapping their cell phones against one of the doctor's hand held devices. But, there was still a group of die-hards. They held large folded placards. When opened up, they would read 'I heart Sousuke', 'Marry Me, Sgt.', and the like. One of the industrious storeroom boys had earned a Summer's worth of money selling materials to the lusty ladies.

The main phone in the room rang. But no one could hear it. Luckily, a technician noted the blinking green light on the communications console and picked up the receiver. He pushed a button that sounded a loud horn, which had everyone going silent. He listened a moment, and then held up the receiver. "Miss Chidori… it's for you… it's Sergeant Sagara."

["Miss Chidori… it's for you… it's Sergeant Sagara."]

["Miss Chidori… it's for you… it's Sergeant Sagara."]

["Miss Chidori… it's for you… it's Sergeant Sagara."]

Those words seemed to echo in Kaname's head, before swimming their way down to her heart. **"Great timing!"** She almost tripped, running so quickly to grab the receiver. "I can't wait to tell him." The room was filled with hushed comments, people excited by the turn of events. What a great coincidence: the young man was calling the young lady at just such a momentous moment. Kaname put the device to her ear and said "Sousuke… wait until I tell-" She was abruptly interrupted.

"Chidori." The way that Sosuuke said that cut through the moment like a knife. "I have something to report. You have a decision to make." The way he said those few words sent chills down Kaname's spine.

"S-S-Sousuke?" Kaname wondered what was wrong. He hadn't caused another catastrophic event, _had_ he? Was it something related to his usual 'out of school' activities?

"Arbalest is about to land at the school," Sousuke reported. "I believe that Amalgam is sending an A.S. to the school to kidnap me… I mean _you_… and it could arrive at any moment. You're… _I'm_… the only one who can pilot it, and save the school. But, I do not have the rights to your body. Hopefully, I am only borrowing it."

"Yes," Kaname said, scared. She also felt a great pressure, as if the news of the day's experiment needed to burst out of her like a bullet from a gun. "The lab-"

"Hopefully Amalgam does _not_ know about the lab or what you are doing," Sousuke said sharply. "I will not lead the enemy in your direction. But… Kaname… I need to know your decision… I need your permission…." He paused, the silence heavier than lead dipped in osmium. "The ring…." Not only would any action on his part put Kaname's body at risk, but the timing of any encounter would bring their chance at revival down close to zero.

"That-" Kaname looked down at the ring. A sense of injustice struck her, one that carried every indignity she suffered in her life with it. The ring was mostly black, with a few small islands of yellow showing. "The time-" She hung her head. The pendulum of emotions swung far back in the opposite direction. From such a high to such a low.

"Kaname?" Sousuke asked, unnerved by the silence, and the imaginary mission clock ticking away inside his mind.

"I know what you-" Kaname started. "_We_ have to do. But-" She slapped both cheeks, shocked by how much it stung. "This time, it's like _I'm _part of Mithril. But I can't help but feel like I'm sending you… and me… off to die." She knew the stakes. She could do the math. If Amalgam was persistent, and Mithril was ever outmaneuvered, she might be gone and Sousuke might be dead someday anyway. The lives of her fellow students, along with everyone else at Jindai High, hung in the balance. "Do what you think is right. I trust you Sousuke. I really-" The mushy words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say them.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said. Things went silent. Kaname thought that he had ended the transmission.

"Sousuke." Kaname said. "Sousuke, are you there?"

"I will do my best, as usual," Sousuke said in that quiet and somber way of his. "Some day, I may come across someone who is a better pilot… or who has a better machine… but I will hope that today is _not_ that day." There was a shorter pause. "But… should today be the day… my last thoughts will be of you." The line went dead.

"Sousuke." Kaname said.

["But… should today be the day… my last thoughts will be of you."]

["But… should today be the day… my last thoughts will be of you."]

["But… should today be the day… my last thoughts will be of you." ]

"What was that last bit?" Kaname asked no one in particular. Just what did those final words mean? They better not be his final words!

"Kaname," someone offered. It was Miss Uumellmahaye. "Are you alright? What did Sousuke have to say? Was he just checking up on our progress?"

"I'll be okay," Kaname said, unsure of the truth in that. "Something's come up. Something with Amalgam. At the school." She shivered. "Big time, I think. Or so Mithril believes."

"I'll run and get the big screen TV from the lounge," Dr. Necessiter said. "I had them put a cable jack in this room last month. I hope the shitheads didn't cover it up!" He immediately apologized when a number of engineers took affront.

"And _I'll _go pop some popcorn!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr ran out, too. They were not the most empathetic pair the world had ever seen.

"**No!"** Anne shouted and stamped her foot. "This is _not_ some kind of sporting match!" She couldn't worry about the two loose cannons. The chimps needed to be removed from the Egg and given a thorough examination, time permitting. "Do you really think Kaname needs to see that?" If the rings could be considered good indicators, then time might be truly of an essence, now. They should get Kaname emotionally calm, settled in the chamber, and ready to go if Sousuke could make it back to the facility in time.

"I would like to see," Kaname said. "I was there his first time in Arbalest. He may need to call me again, for support. A the very least, I can feel like I'm there with him, if I watch." She knew that things could go very badly. But, whatever happened, she would not be able to hide from the truth. Chickens always come home to roost.

"We'll all be here with you," Mr. Mr. Mitsunari said. Numerous people called out their support, too. His cell phone rang. "Hello. Mitsunari here." He listened for a moment. "I see. I will take care of things." Immediately thereafter, he made a number of terse calls, mentioned code numbers in a number of them."

"What is it?" Anne looked concerned. It was the second time that day that he had seen the administrator look shaken.

"A number of unknown parties have launched small raids and attacks on various sites," Mr. Mitsunarisaid. "Some were military targets… others were research facilities." That last bit sounded ominous. Was it Amalgam? Did they somehow know that major scientific procedures were taking place at a neurological facilitiy. Were they trying to find out which facility at random? "I have called in our personal mercenary units, and have notified the armed forces. But, Mithril has no one to spare. Their teams have all been launched to reconnoiter the warzones, and to proceed with attacks if necessary." All of the other fighting sites could be diversions. Or, they could be jewels to be put in the crown of a royal pain in the ass, Amalgam. Or, someone who was part of that organization, but had previously set up a number of contingency plans.

"Sousuke will be on his own, then" Kaname said, more worried about him than herself, in a matter of speaking. She knew that the TDD-1 had cruise missiles. If they weren't all spoken for, maybe there_ could_ be someone on Sousuke's side.

"Telephone again, Miss Chidori." A technician waved to the scar-faced 'boy'. This time, it was Tessa, calling to offer emotional support. She pledged to do whatever she could, especially seeing that the Tokyo incursion would take place in a major population center. There would be collateral damage of course… maybe even some damage to the school that she had visited earlier that day… but to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs.

"Yes… I understand," Kaname said. Then, her eyes went wide. _"You_ visited _the School?"_ She had visited Sousuke! There was no other reason for her to go there. She bit 'her' lips. Calm down, girl. Take deep breaths. Sousuke was in _her_ body. And, Teletha Testerrosa had no interest in Kaname Chidori. There was no reason to feel even the slightest twinge of jealousy, _right?_

"I can't speak now," Tessa said. Commander Mardukas had make a stern comment in the background. "But… before I go… I will tell you the topic in Biology class." The other Whispered girl just couldn't help herself. She said 'Sex Ed. 'And, just before cutting transmission, she added: "Sousuke kept passing me notes. That randy rascal."

"**You!"** Kaname said to dead air. _"Grrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-r."_ She pinched 'herself.' There was no reason to get upset, right? "Sousuke could never view a commanding officer in a romantic light…." Just the way that he could never fall in love with his charge? She shook that thought out of 'her' head. Instead, she grinned evilly, picturing Tessa strapped to a cruise missile in flight. Buck naked, wearing just a hair-tie on her fluttering ponytail. She also updated her mental Palm Pilot. Her list of questions for Sousuke Sagara had just grown a good bit longer.

"Miss Chidori," Mr. Mitsunari said in a soft voice. "The veterinarians will continue to watch Adam and Eve carefully. It won't be long before the Egg is swabbed down… before the machine is charged up again… and before we're ready to go. We might tweak some parameters a little; but, it makes little sense to mess with success."

"Yes," Kaname said. "As long as _I _don't end up the one picking my nose," She tried to smile. "Or picking something worse." Her joke fell flat. Flatter than it would be if someone had dropped it from the top of the Empire State Building.

"Of course," the administrator said. His eyes went very serious, and his voice solemn. He spoke as if he stood in the middle of Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. "Everyone here appreciates Sergeant Sagara's service." He squeezed Kaname's arm in a fatherly fashion. "And your sacrifice."

"Sacrifice," Kaname whispered. She held back a sudden sob. Every day, Sousuke Sagara was a walking sacrifice. He had sacrificed a childhood, by no choice of his own. He didn't even have the chance to be a true high school student like his peers. None of them had picked up anything more deadly than a steak knife or a pair of pruning shears. Who among them had defended anything more than their spot in a cramped club room or their place in the food line? If he died, all record of him would disappear, like he had never been born at all. Maybe Mithril would hold a ceremony. More likely, Weber and Mao would hoist some glasses, clink them together, and drink the contents, and then write 'on patrol' next to Sousuke's name on the mission board.

"If he dies…." Kaname shook off her sadness, only because it was time to view things clearly in her own light. If Sousuke _did _die… or was called away again for some reason… who would protect her? Him. Whatever. When would Mithril's altruism evaporate, or somehow prove itself to be false, a con job of sorts?

"The only things that can possibly survive a nuclear war-" a kindly old man began. "Are cockroaches… ants… scorpions… ginkos-" Nick-named the Tree of Life, _Ginkgo biloba_ is one of the very few forms of life to survive the detonation of the American atomic bomb over Hiroshima. A ginkgo tree survived despite being less than a mile from the epicenter of the nuclear blast on August 6, 1945. "-And Sergeant Sousuke Sagara… Urzu-7…."

"Who _are_ you," Kaname said. "And how do you…." She left her question hanging.

"How soon they forget," the 'man' said, unbuttoning the top few buttons on 'his' Engineer's uniform. She then worked her fingers underneath a prosthetic mask, and tore if off, much the way that Tom Cruise does in 'Mission Impossible' movies.

"**You!"** Kaname blinked rapidly. She recognized the woman, a North Korean by birth, and now a member of the Mithril Intelligence Division. "How long have _you _been here?" She wrinkled Sousuke's forehead. "And why are you breaking cover?"

_It was Wraith._

"I'm not sure," the spy said, in reply to the last question. She was not about to say that it was because she felt a liking for the other woman, almost as if she wished that she could have at least one friend. "But, not to worry. I have scoured every square inch of this place… I doubt that there are any hidden recording devices. And… it would take an exceptional traitor to hide from me. A less than exceptional covert operative would be resting with fish heads, under the newspapers in the dumpster behind the fish market."

"Right." Kaname first felt very tense, with the master of disguise being there. That spoke to how much danger she was in, no matter what body she might be wearing. "Has there been anyone following me lately?" She immediately knew that was a stupid question. She doubted that the older woman would answer. And, if she did, she didn't want to share the blood on the agent's hands. "Never mind! Forget that I asked!"

"_Hmmmm-mmm-mm-m."_ Wraith watched as Dr. Necessiter struggled to carry a large flat-screen television into the lab. A few steps behind him, Dr. Hfuhruhurr was pushing a popcorn cart that once graced a famous carnival. Nothing was too good for the doctors and researchers at the Tokyo Neurological Cednter. "Is there anyone that you want to disappear? I can make things look like accidents. Or, I could finger him or her as enemy infiltrators." It was hard to tell if she was speaking in jest.

"Nooo-oo-o…." Kaname stiffened. For just a millisecond, she had a very unkind thought. That wasn't like her! Well, not when she had time to think things through. The silly men may have been a major thorn in her side… and a whole thorn bush in Anne's ass… but they truly seemed fond of her… and they had done her cause an enormous service. She smiled briefly. "Could I have a rain check?"

"Sure." Wraith surprised Kaname by chuckling, and pushing her bang out from in front of her eyes. "Here… take this… my card…." She ripped a page off of a notebook within arm's reach, and handed it to Kaname, bowing as she did so. Naturally, the paper was blank.

"I'll treasure it always," Kaname said. She then became serious again. "Thank you. I mean that. For whatever it is that you do."

"Are you speaking to yourself, Miss Chidori." Wraith somehow slid from view, stepping between two milling and meandering men outside of the room. Her voice came faintly. "I was never here." She no doubt would don another disguise, after reporting the most recent events to her handler.

"I wonder how many people she's been today," Kaname asked herself. Wool-gathering, she found herself moving, but not under her own power.

"Come on… come on…." Dr. Hfuhruhurr had looped one of his arms around one of hers.

"Hurryhurryhurry. It could start any time-" Dr. Necessiter said, hooking Kaname's other arm. "-_If _any of the news services films it and shows it live." The two couldn't even be certain that anything was going to happen. Mithril had been tactically and strategically wrong on more than one occasion.

"**Hey, let them stay!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr shouted over to a pair of animal trainers, who were leading the chimpanzees away, holding their hands. "They could use a break. Rough day at the office, you know. We have beer." He looked over at a food cart. "And bananas." He walked over to an ice bucket, hoping someone had brought down something strongly alcoholic that he could chug down. His enormous brainpower was no longer needed.

"We can see if Eve likes to watch sports shows and porno channels," an animal handler remarked. "And if Adam goes straight for QVC, or one of those mascara infomercials."

"In any case, we can't let them go like _that."_ That was Anne, who was carrying a large fabric bag. When the bag moved, there was a sound of metal clanking against metal. "It looks like Reggie Junior's diaper is full. She needs to have her diaper changed before she heads back to the zoo." She felt a bit uneasy about the primates leaving. She hoped that no one in the scientific community would send them for vivisection.

"Crikey," Dr. Necessiter said, doing his best Steve Irwin impression. "What a ripper." It did indeed look like the one set of Pampers was ready to tear. "Poor Sheila. She can't go walkabout like that."

"I think that Reggie should be the one to change it," Dr. Hfuhruhurr opined. "Since he _was_ the one who imprinted on all of the animals. The lab will pay for his services. Spare no expense!" He wondered who might catch that reference.

"I agree," Mr. Mitsunari said, catching wind of the conversation. There were no grounds to sanction Reginald for his less than gentile behaviour today. But, sometimes people can give kharma a helping hand. "With great power comes great responsibility." He watched as the two scientists laughed and clapped their hands. "Speaking of which… Miss Uumellmahaye … if you are ready, I will call Security, and they will have the room cleared."

"I truly _should_ begin the rites," Anne said. "The Sergeant isn't here. But we have Kaname, and we have the machinery. I won't be able to finish if we wait for Sousuke to come back before I start the proceedings." She didn't mention the ring. She didn't have to. "Like before, you have nothing to worry about. The rites are harmless." That was said to Kaname. "This first one will smooth the way for the ones that follow."

"Sure," Dr. Necessiter said. "Until someone that knows Sousuke or Kaname shows up. Again. Just like before the last ritual. Just you wait."

"Not this time," Anne said. She made a motion with her hand, one like a show-master might make in the olden days, to have a bad performer hooked and pulled off of the stage. "That's why before I get to the mental clarity spells and blessings, I will Call Down the Moon. That will be a strong deterrent to any bad happenings."

"Uh huh," Dr Hfuhruhurr said, thinking any ritual to be little more than a mealy mouthful of mumbo jumbo. "Did you know that after the Americans went to the Moon, the Soviet leader announced that they would be sending a man to the Sun. The engineers objected. 'If you send a man to the Sun, he will burn up!' 'What do you think I am, stupid?' the leader replied. 'We'll send him at night!'" That bit of nonsense almost began a chain reaction. Anne began making the hooking motion again, more fervently this time.

"What's the difference between Kim Kardashian and the moon?" A courier asked, after handing over a package of patent forms that an eager and departing group of administrators signed for. He waited a few moments, and then said: "You actually have to put in some effort to see the moon's backside."

"**ENOUGH!"** That was Mr. Mr. Mitsunari. He saw the way that weary technicians and engineers seemed to suddenly perk up, thinking of moon jokes. He didn't want things to turn into some kind of a joke fest. Who would want one of _those?!_

The arriving Security personnel made certain that everyone except Anne and Kaname left the room. They were polite to most of the people in the exodus, and most of the visitors left in a swift and orderly fashion. The guards carried two masks, both of which were exact replicas of the one put on Hannibal Lecter in 'Silence of the Lambs'. The two head scientists had a good idea who _those _masks were meant for.

Kaname herself almost followed the crowd, thinking it might be best to empty Sousuke's bladder before things got started. Her mind flashed back to her first foray into the Men's Room, and she quickly decided that she could wait.

"I'm used to doing this," Anne admitted. "But those idiots would turn the place into some kind of a strip club, I'm sure of it." It would be even worse if she added the usual sexual elements to the ceremony. She opened her purse and took out a few items, and began arranging them on one of the few clear areas left on a desk top, pushing a stack of mechanical calculations and a half dozen empty and half-full styrofoam coffee cups out of the way. Next to a private note from Glen, she placed the fox pin that the Fox Witch had been wearing… a hirogata bearing a handwritten note of encouragement, given to her by the visiting omnyoji… a half-eaten bag of hazelnuts handed to her by the Okinawan yuta… and a small polished stone that she always kept with her, one that she had found during her fist spiritual walk along the Asuza River.

She began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Let me repeat, there's nothing for you to worry about." Anne said. "And… as you will soon see… I perform this ritual skyclad… Wiccan speak for 'nude.' Clothing can interfere with my spiritual workings." She was soon down to her undergarments. As Kaname politely looked away, she removed the remainder, which were folded and placed in a neat pile on the floor. "Wiccan Magick is very much like Christian Prayers. We ask the Divine for something that we want to happen in our lives. First, I will have to do my centering… grounding… and shielding. In many traditions, it's crucial that you learn to do these things before you begin working magic. Centering is essentially the foundation of energy work, and subsequently magic itself. Grounding is a way of eliminating excess energy that you may have stored up during a ritual or a working. Shielding is a way to protect yourself from psychic, mental, or magical attack." She went through her usual procedures, as Kaname watched silently, so happy that the suffocating number of people had been cleared away.

"**MEOWWWWW-WWW-WW-W**_**-GORK GABBA GABBA GRIBBLE"**_

One of the spiked, colorful and misconfigured tabby cats had escaped and run back into the room, intending to use the Egg as a litter box. It coughed up a throbbing and glowing hairball. Scampering just behind it came Dr. Hfuhruhurr, intending to catch the kaleidoscopic kittie before being caught himself. He slid to a halt, and then stared at Anne in surprise. "Hubba hubba," he said.

"Take them both out, _please."_ Anne said, irritated at being interrupted and gawked at. "Put the one in a strong cage with an even stronger lock." She didn't say whether the cat or the scientist should be the one that was imprisoned. Kaname knew which one _she_ would choose.

A bald, bearded, and burly security guard tucked the doctor under his arm, and grabbed the nightmare cat by it's tail. Both captives immediately began fussing and batting at one another.

Kaname pictured a small black cat with Sousuke's head. Wouldn't it be nice if _he_ was that portable, whenever he got into trouble? A cat, she wouldn't carry by the tail. That would be cruel and inhumane. Sousuke? That was a different story. She suddenly wiped away the image with a mental eraser. She had imagined Sousuke, feeling her hand on his tail, and mistakenly asking if that was some kind of sexual invitation. She felt her cheeks growing warm.

"There are many different ways to draw down the moon," Anne told Kaname, who tried to focus on the person speaking, but couldn't help but sneak quick glances at the television set. No news of any strange activity near her school, yet. "For today's version, I will begin by standing at the altar I brought in." She walked over to a different ornate faux stone altar that was draped in ivy leaves, and which sported a small chalice, a dagger, and a number of different odoriferous herbs. She crossed her arms over her chest, and brought her feet together. She faced in the direction that the full moon would rise that night and prepared to speak.

"Pony?"

_Another interloper! _

Costume fully on, the Pony man had returned. He had left his favorite hair brush behind, and had come back to retrieve it. He would have been there sooner; but, he had left the Pony head in a Taxi, and had to track down that cab… retrieve his head… and then frighten a bunch of old women and a couple of toddlers as he rode public transportation to the lab site.

"**SECURITY!" **

This time it was Kaname who hailed the team. "Him too!" She watched as a pair of hospital personnel chased after the Pony Man, who was trotting off on his own. "It's okay now," Kaname said to Anne, who nodded her head and resumed:

"_Goddess of the Moon, You have been known by many names in many lands in many times. You are universal and constant. In the dark of night, You shine down upon us and bathe us in Your light and love. I ask You, O Divine One, to honor me by joining with me, and allowing me to feel Your presence within my heart._

Miss Uumellmahaye moved her feet apart to about shoulder width, and raised her arms up and out to welcome the Goddess into her. She chanted spontaneously from the heart, eschewing the memorized parts that she used on most occasions. Feeling a slight tingle, she continued:

"_I am the Mother of all life, the One who watches over all. I am the wind in the sky, the spark in the fire, the seedling in the earth, the water in the river."_

Kaname didn't know if there really was a Divine One. She wondered if the Whispered were some kind of divine joke. Just the same, if Anne could make anything beneficial happen, she was all for it. She would take help from _anyone._ If a boy in a turban ran in with a magic lamp or a djinn in a bottle, she would welcome him with open arms. She watched as Anne said:

"_I am the vessel from which All Things spring forth. Honor Me from within your heart! Remember that acts of love and pleasure are My rituals, and that there is beauty in all things. Honor Me on this day of the full moon! I have been with you since the moment you were created, and shall remain with you always. Let there be beauty and strength, wisdom and honor, humility and courage within you. If you need Me, call upon Me and I shall come to you, for I am everywhere, always."_

Kaname felt her eyelids grow heavy as the words droned on. She almost dozed off. Her thoughts drifted to past events. Khanka, again. The place that the fake UN rescuers had tried to convince everyone was Siberia.

*Beating her hands on the inside of a glass cylinder* *Trying to escape in her underwear, only to be shot at by a lady researcher* *Being held down, as a drip of an experimental drug fell from the tip of a syringe needle ready to be plunged in* *Sousuke showing up out of the blue, taser in hand, only to push her down when he had rendered her attackers unconscious* *'Get off me you molester pervert!'* *'Mithril sent a soldier to guard you 24/7, and that soldier is me'* *Sousuke climbing into an RK-92. 'I'm not an amateur. In fact, I'm a Specialist!'* *Climbing onto the lowered hand of a Savage* *Defeating the enemy and making a run for it, only to be defeated by a silver Arm Slave.*

"Experimental drugs," Kaname whispered, feeling a shiver. She remembered the A21 instance again. That boy, under the influence of the drug. What would Sousuke be like, if Mithril drugged him, so he could use the Lambda Driver better? Now was no time to fantasize about what ifs! She watched as Anne continued her endeavor:

"_Honor Me as you seek knowledge! I am the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone, and I live within you_."

Anne beamed, eyes shining, and perfect white teeth exposed in a dreamy smile. She could feel the power of the Goddess within her.

Kaname purposely tried to dive back in time in her mind. There was a wealth of memories there, if only she could unlock the mental jewel box:

*'This is a nice surprise, Kashim. I've got this new job where I have to play around in the young girl's brain. It's like a treasure hunt* *Kurz to the rescue. Yes, that Kurz. The lost kittie Kurz.* *Just missing the C17s as they took off with the rest of the class.* *A wounded Sousuke. Rain. A picture of Sousuke and his late comrades.* *'Stay away!'* *Can you trust me, Kaname.'* *A wounded Kurz in a wheelbarrow.* *Refusing to leave when Sousuke ordered her to go off on her own* *A lot of 'Uhhhs.'* *It's better for you to die here, then to be turned into one of the living dead'.*

What would have happened, had they caught one of the two Globemasters? Sousuke never would have used Arbalest. He wouldn't be chained to that Arm Slaves ankle now, a slave to his bond with that machine. What would have happened if she had gone off to the beach on her own, and Sousuke and Kurz did the western movie thing without her?

Robert Leroy Parker , born in April 13, 1866, better known as Butch Cassidy, was a U.S. train robber and bank robber, and the leader of a gang of criminal outlaws known as the 'Wild Bunch' in the U.S. Old West. Pressured by the Pinkerton Detective Agency, he fled the country with his accomplice Harry Alonzo Longabaugh, known as the 'Sundance Kid', and Longabaugh's girlfriend, Etta Place. The trio traveled first to Argentina and then to Bolivia, where Parker and Longabaugh are believed to have been killed in a shootout with police in November 1908. In 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid', a 1969 American Western film in which Paul Newman played Butch and Robert Redford played the Kid, the two outlaws charged out of their hiding place with guns blazing at the end of the movie, directly into a virtual firing squad, as the image freezes to the sound of dozens of muskets firing repeatedly.

Anne's voice rose in its volume, and in its vibrancy. The way she moved would have transfixed any man, the way that the namesake dancer did in Volbeat's 'Lola Montez,' if any men had been allowed in the room. As it was, Kaname was truly moved. How could anyone move so slowly, but make the movement seem so profound? And, the way that she spoke:

"_I look down upon the sands of the desert, I crash the tides upon the shore, I shine on the mighty trees of the forests, and watch with joy as Life continues every cycle." _

"Joy," Kaname whispered. "The trees of the forest." She closed her eyes, mind surfing again: *Tall trees towering over them.* *Soul-gazing. 'Sousuke'… 'Kaname'… 'Sousuke.'* *Spy satellites and long shots.* *'I promise that I'll be back'* *Mumbling about ECS weak points and A.S. parts.* *Kurz eyes wandering to her partially exposed chest and paying the price.* *'If we make it back, what do you think you'll do?' "I'll probably start on my next mission.' 'Does that mean you're not coming back?' "I'll simply disappear, just as my training dictates.'*

"Movies should have a happy ending," Kaname said. This whole body-switch ordeal seemed like a bad B-movie or a crazy anime. _It _should have a happy ending. The last thing she needed was for that moody military maniac to fight to the death in some cool ending scene! "And the only one I want staring at my breasts is Sousuke!" Talk about your Freudian slip! "I mean… you know… in the mirror… while he's still me…." She hurried to change the subject clumsily. "It… I… we…." She coughed. "I helped him in Khanka. I helped him in Hong Kong. Is there something I can do to help him this time, too?"

The truth of the matter was, she had done a yeoman's job here at the lab, ensuring that the two of them got their body's back. But, nothing that she could do _here_ would help Jindai High, or give aid to the people who were on school grounds. And, the enemy was at the school because of her. Because of what she was. Yes. her being Whispered was the gift that kept on giving. She couldn't run from _that,_ right? But, she still had a choice. She could call Sousuke back, laying claim to her body. The two of them could survive, at the cost of many lives, many friends. She had once tried to take her life when she returned to Japan, things had been so bad back then. What was worse, that, or doing whatever was necessary to remain whole, with others doing the dying?

"No," Kaname said pithily. "That's _not_ who I am." After Khanka, Melissa had told her that she might be the strongest of them all. She needed to live up to that. "Ouch." She had to twist her leg just so, to keep a sudden unexpected leg cramp from taking hold. When she looked back up, she saw that Anne was still at it, now covered in a thin layer of sweat that reflected the light from the huge overhead banks of halogen bulbs. It almost felt as if the woman's voice was vibrating, like her tongue was a tuning fork:

"_Be true to Me, honoring that which I have created, and I shall be true to you in return. With harm to none, so it shall be_."

Kaname struck a pose, one much like Anne's. Help was a not always what one can _do_… it was often something that one had already _done._ The importance doesn't necessarily fade away with time. Sometimes it can grow stronger. Yes, Sousuke was bound to the ARX-7. But that was not only a curse. Sometimes it was a blessing. The young soldier was a true whiz in a rickety old Soviet junk heap. He was closer to being a god in Arbalest. She had been the one who helped him learn how to use the Lambda Driver. There was no way that anyone could ever beat him, now. She yawned, and slowly closed her eyes.

*The missile flew overhead, and then came apart in flight, dropping the white Arm Slave.* *Sousuke ran to board the machine for the first time, defeating multiple Savages soon thereafter.* *Facing the silver A.S. again.* *'Magic, huh. I'm afraid it's not that. That guy is not using magic. He's using Technology.*' *Gauron using the Lambda Driver.* *'Sousuke is going to lose, if it keeps going this way.' 'Somehow I understand.' 'A clue. I'll give him a clue' 'This time I'm doing the saving'.* *'The device simply responded to your mind.' 'The images in your mind take real physical shape.' 'Focus your hope to beat your opponent. Put your whole spirit into it!' 'If you lose, the bad guys will pull off all of my clothes, play around with my body, and kill me when they're done. Imagine that happening to me. You can't let him do that, can you?'* *'Nooo-oo-o.'* *'Then point your gun at him. Close your eyes. Trust me. In a few seconds you will strike. Hold the image. AND NOW!'*

_Magic? _

Kaname looked at Anne, who was nearing the end of her rite. Was what she was doing really Magic? She almost wished that she was a magical girl. Almost. The world doesn't need overpowered heroines… or heroes for that matter. It's the common everyday folks that need to get things done. And, as for someone playing around with her body, things would be different if they couldn't switch back. That is, if Gauron was truly dead this time. Rumor had it that the amoral mercenary had a horrendously huge hankering for a choice piece of Sousuke's anatomy.

"-" Kaname didn't want to think about Gauron. Instead, she toyed with another thought. Khanka was Sousuke Sagara's first day piloting the ARX-7. Today would be Kaname Chidori's first time, right? "Well… in a way…." Kaname felt stupid, thinking that. It would still be Sousuke, only _he _would be in _her_ body. "It will still be a first." She smirked, wondering what the A.I. would say.

"It's almost done," Anne said, somehow sounding exhausted and invigorated at the same time. "Now… I'll just take a few moments to stand and bask in Her glow… and to meditate upon everything that I just experienced." Once the emotional energy surge had subsided, the Wiccan lowered her arms.

"Here." Kaname kindly handed the other woman a cold can of soda, still dripping water and shedding a small number of clinging ice cubes.

"Thanks," Anne said, holding the can to her forehead. She smiled. Feeling dehydrated, she popped open the beverage and drank the whole can without stopping. **"Brrr-rr-r-aaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-ap! **_Oh! Excuse me._ I'm such a pig." She wiped her mouth, and then barely caught a drip of soda that tried to escape her chin. "I'll soon be ready to perform the simpler rites." She looked over at her large bag, which held numerous items large and small, all needed for the ceremonies that she would perform.

"Catch your breath first," Kaname said. Those words were the epitome of irony, as she soon found herself holding _her_ breath.

"We have word of a missile entering Tokyo airspace," a female commentator was saying on the air. She was impeccably dressed, seated in a helicopter, flying over the city.

"Witnesses calling in to the station claim to have seen a large cannister descending from the sky by parachute," a well-groomed and eerily calm male announcer said on a competing TV channel."

"It's probably like 'War of the Worlds'!" The small hyperactive co-anchor expounded.

"No," Kaname said, shaking her head. "It's Arbalest."

It _was,_ wasn't it? What if it was the enemy? If the bad A.S. landed first, it meant that the Amalgam pilot would have the advantage!

Kaname was never one to chew on her fingers, especially if she was in an environment that made hand washing and anti-bacterial soaps a must.

She began chewing on one of Sousuke's thumbnails.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Eventually the rest of the story will follow. Sousuke's first actions back at Jindai. Mr. Magnesium's actions when he arrives at the school. A battle away from the school. Action far above the city. And a return to the lab._

_It remains to be seen how long a nap my muse might want._


	18. Chapter 18

This is now chapter 18 in its entirety.

Chapter 19 will be combat. Part of chapter 20 will be as well.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**JINDAI GROUNDS**

Souuske stood quiet against the turmoil, momentarily oblivious to the trials and tribulations that the students faced.

A veteran of difficult situations and complicated choices, he still felt especially cold inside, as if someone had poured liquid nitrogen down into his gullet. He hadn't forced Kaname to accept the necessities, to join him in a sacrifice no one at the school would ever know, much less appreciate.

_It just felt as if he had._

There would be no 'thank you's.' There never were. Not in his line of work. But, while Kaname being Whispered was the magnet that drew Amalgam in, it was his actions that had led to the crowded field and the heated melee. Everyone there was nothing more than a sitting duck, ready to be caught in the crosshairs of the enemy Arm Slave.

Boys against girls would lead to cuts and bruises, smudged make-up and tarnished egos. Arm Slave against high school students would lead to a rain of bullets, a chorus of screams and final utterances, followed by a mourning nation and a crop of new grave markers. If he managed to engage the adversary on school grounds with Arbalest, he might be able to reduce the carnage, but he would not come close to preventing it. Friendly fire was unavoidable. So were friendly A.S. foot steps and collateral effects from clashing Lambda Drivers.

"I know what to do," Sousuke said, accessing a web page he had set up, filled with various apps. "But… I still have to be discreet…." He might be dressed as a rabbit; but, his actions could lead back to Sousuke Sagara… or to Kaname Chidori… if he were apprehended and the costume removed. He pushed on a button that had the image of a mushroom.

On the side of the school, beneath a plot that the Farming Club had planted a crop of strawberries and watermelons, a large phallic shape rose, looking somewhat like a mushroom. With a hiss of compressed gas, a large door slid open, and gibbous gray gas cloud wafted upwards. LED lights illuminated the inside of the cache. Riding his tank to the storage device… only one of a number hidden on the school grounds… he took a few moments to sort through the inventory.

"_This_ will do." Thermobaric munitions are those munitions that, by design, produce more heat and overpressure than conventional explosives by exploding a vapor in the blast zone. Their main use initially was in airborne fuel-air explosive bombs. Whilst the United States has concentrated on airborne weapons, Russia has produced thermobaric weapons and warheads, from airborne bombs to rifle grenades. Thermobaric munitions work by initially dispersing an aerosol cloud of gas, liquid, or finely powdered explosive. The result is a plasma cloud that reaches temperatures of between 2,500 and 3000 degrees Celsius "The others are too unpredictable."

"**Up!"** Sousuke hefted a Russian RPO PDM-A Shmel-MX disposable rocket launcher to his shoulder, and crouching behind a refuge bin, he aimed at a grouping of large trees near the center rear of the sports field. _"Now." _He fired. The rocket shot out of the tube, and then burst into flight, leaving a sooty trail. "I trust its accuracy." There were also thermobaric warheads for the RPG-7 family of weapons, and a hand-held launcher for Soviet 42mm grenades. Those were too dangerous to use now, not that the launch of a rocket was low risk in itself.

A trio of large oaks were engulfed in a blazing cloud, immediately lighting up like towering matches, reminiscent of a scene from the original 'Rollerball' movie, but on a much grander scale. The explosion, and the rolling wave of head extended across a nearby street, painting homes and businesses in an eerie orange glow, and blowing a few windows in. Frightened pets took off in different directions. Passersby and people outdoors immediately fell to their knees. The students were no less effected. Some suffered second degree burns on exposed skins. Others were thrown a yard or three through the air. Some found themselves beset by temporary deafness, or intense watering of their eyes. Those closest to the blast had trouble breathing, their lungs filled with superheated air. Fortunjately, no one had had been in close proximity of the targets; if there had been, they would be dying now.

All thoughts of boys versus girls, or sports versus non-sports, vanished in that instant. Now, it was a matter of perceived survival. And, strangely enough, erstwhile foes became helpers and protectors. The Principal had arrived a minute earlier, carrying a megaphone. Thinking of the proper words to help stop the fracass, she immediately called out directions to evacuate the school yard. She was a true leader.

"Good," Sousuke said. He accessed another app, and watched a cursor plot Arbalest's incoming path. It was high up, chute deployed on the missile cannister. The winds were blowing it off course. _"Shit!" _It would land north of the school. While internal sensors would place it in the area best shielded from prying eyes, and prevent as much damage or injury as possible, there was no telling what the battlefield would look like, or what obstacles he might face. Yes, the school and students might be safer if he could control the encounter away from the high school, but the sports field had at least provided a space he could readily work with. He needed to move! He had to get to the ARX-7 before any witnesses might, and before Amalgam forces arrived.

"**You!"** A voice called out, startling Sousuke, who was usual difficult to surprise. _"Rabbit!"_ He had been caught up in things, in a rush to save as many people as he could. That, and he was of course in Kaname's body. Someone had closed in without his realizing. "Just who are you. And what the fuck are you doing." It was Gloomy Bear. More specifically, it was Hiroshi Tachikawa in his Gloomy Bear get-up, exoskeleton and all. His vocoder was off, but his set-up still functioned.

"-" Sousuke had to find the right words, quickly. He had no chance of success fighting Gloomy now. The bear could strike with those frightening claws, sooner than he could bring any weapon into play. He would take a risk. "Fumo," he said, trying to imitate Bonta-kun's voice, so as not to give away 'his' own. "Fumo fumo _fumoffu!"_ He punched out into space, imitating moves he had used in their gymnasium tussle.

"I'm listening," Hiroshi said. "Your explanation had better be good!" He looked over at the trees, blazing tapers now.

"I will not tell you _who_ I am until I am sure I can trust you," Sousuke said. "Or _whom_ I work for, unless I figure you are worth recruiting." He would act as if the man was trustworthy, with a good heart and a willingness to believe a difficult truth. "But I will tell you of the approaching danger." He gave a telegraphic description of the impending battle. Hiroshi's reply caught him off guard.

"How can I help," Hiroshi asked, flexing various powered joints, making certain he had full flexibility. His power cell was half full, and all hydraulics were green-lit. "I've had weapons training. I could-" He stopped. He stood silent a moment. And then said: "I know of other mascots who are ex-military, or ex-cop. A merc, too."

"All are welcome," Sousuke said, feeling like balking at his own words. But, he had no time to vet anyone, and any help he could get could prove useful, if only as a delay or distraction. He had no qualms moving people like checkers, if they willingly put themselves on his board. "If they are altruistic, this is a chance to satisfy their cravings. If they need monetary motivation, those who pay me will gladly pay them." He remembered Hiroshi's reaction to head host of the telethon job offer earlier that day. "And… if someone needs a good paying job… they will be given consideration… if they are suitable for our line of work"

"Wait here," Gloomy said, now in his mechanical voice, minus the 'Gloomy Gloomy' talk. "I will fetch all who are willing."

"Meet here," Sousuke countered. "I will appropriate transportation." As the huge pink bear ran off, wanting to cut-off mascots who were headed for shelter in the school, the young soldier ran back inside the vehicle room. "These will do." There were two Kubota RTV-X900 utility vehicles, both fueled. One was a shiny new arrival, the other rusty and about to be retired. There was also a large Iseki SXG22 lawn tractor and a utility trailer. He hooked one UTV to the other with a cable, and used the one to tow the other out to the rendezvous point.

Remarkably, Hiroshi was back with four mascots. There would have been a fifth, but he had removed his suit to take a piss inside a dugout. He would try to catch up; but, there was no time to waste. Arbalest would touch down soon, and the enemy could arrive any moment.

"The name is Kantaro Mori," one mascot said, a flat-nosed green pig with leaves forming a mane. It was Guribu, from Kagoshima, Japan. "I was Tokushusakusengun." By that he meant the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force's counter-terrorist unit. "Not to be a nag," said. "But what are we supposed to do, put on an act and get the bad guy to laugh himself to death? I can't seem to find-" He patted his costume with big fabric hands. "-My old FN Special Operations Forces Combat Assault Rifle-" He patted some more. "-Or my favorite Type 01 LMAT fire-and-forget anti-tank missile."

"Good to meet you," Sousuke said, walking over to one of the 'Mushrooms'. "It is not a problem. Here." He removed and swung a weighty Javelin missile system, almost falling flat on 'his' furry face in the process. The mascot caught it with an _'Oomph!"_

"I'm Yoshinobu Saitou," another Mascot said. It was Black Bancho, a streetwise squid from Itoigawa City with black shades and a cool black outfit. "I moonlight with the Hiroshima Hostage Rescue Team." He looked over at Guribu. "Do you happen to have another… _Oomph!"_ Sousuke was a head of the game. He had swung another Javelin before the other man even finished speaking.

"Do you have another," a third mascot asked. It was Kitanyan, the fashionable cat mascot for Jujo Ginza shopping arcade in Shinagawa, Tokyo, sporting a fancy white heart-emblazoned tennis visor, a blue neck bell, and a red purse. "Names Soemu Tomioka "I've worked with Unity Resources." That was an Australian owned mercenary group managed by veterans from Australia, the U.S. and Great Britain. "I helped evacuate private oil companies from crisis zones in Bahrain."

"Sorry but that's a negative" Sousuke said. Pushing another icon caused another penile shape to extrude from the grass-covered ground. He extracted a well-worn RPG 30 and tossed it to the cat. The tandem shaped charge rocket, 105mm, launched after a precursor round that was fired to decoy active protection systems on armored vehicles. "I hope that will do." He felt relieved when the mascot actor said "Niiii-iii-ii-ice."

"You gotta be shitting me," the fourth volunteer said in disbelief. "Our leader is a giant white rabbit." He spat. _"Fuck_ me." That actor was wearing a costume of Retsuko, the eponymous character the Japanese anime musical comedy franchise Aggretsuko, who facing constant frustration every day from pushy superiors and annoying co-workers, lets out her emotions by going to a karaoke bar every night and singing death metal. The red panda wore a kimono and carried a large fan.

"Uh, buddy," Soemu said. "This coming from a guy dressed up as a girlie red panda? _Really?!"_

"Hell," the mascot said with a laugh. "That's right. This is all too funny. After today, though, I could sure _use_ a good laugh." He rubbed his huge mascots hands together, before tossing them off and to the grass. "And a sizeable pay off." When asked his name, he apologized and said "Tamon Suzuki. I was cashiered from the Amphibious Rapid Deployment Brigade." That unit was designed to conduct amphibious operations and to recover any Japanese islands taken by an adversary. "I kinda accidentally slept with the commander's girlfriend."

"Ten times," Kanataro clarified. "Or so I've been told." He ducked when Sousuke tossed another RPG 30.

"Doesn't matter," Sousuke remarked, switching to Mao mode automatically. "We're here to fight, not to fuck like bunnies." He took an aggressive stance. Well, as aggressive as he could in the floppy and over-sized rabbit costume. "Although, we might get fucked up the ass, if you goons don't play things close to the vest." That had everyone's attention. "There is no weapon effective against the machine we will face under most circumstances," he informed the crew. He was not going to explain what a Lambda Driver was in any detail. There wasn't time. "But, if vulnerabilities surface, there will be chances to do damage. Luck is an excellent co-pilot. An overconfident or poorly informed enemy may provide desirous opportunities. It will be best to stay secluded, when we reach our fight zone. I will command you when I board my Arm Slave."

"Funny," the big squid mascot said. "I almost thought that I heard the Bunny say 'Arm Slave'." Yoshinobu cradled his new toy.

"I don't find that so amazing after that!" Soemu said, pointing at one of the 'mushrooms,' and then adding "You know, a giant pecker filled with weapons. You don't see that every day"

"Hah! I do!" Tamon huffed. "That's nothing. My schlong is a WMD!" He struck a cringeworthy pose.

"Too much information," Kantaro remarked in a sour voice.

"You can joke on the way over," Sousuke said, telling the men to mount up, two to a UTV. He would use the same steed he had been using. Gloomy could run faster than anyone there could drive. "You should all know. I am not a rabbit. In fact, I'm a Specialist!"

"Goomy Gloomy!" There was a pause. He had accidentally switched the vocoder on while dialing in an adjacent function. "Sorry. I mean: which way, chief?" Gloomy had reached inside one of the storage cannisters on his own. With powered arms, he was able to schlep the Command & launcher unit and munitions for a Spike ATGM system. The missiles had the new Penetration-Blast-Fragmentation warhead.

"**That way!"** Sousuke pointed, looking at the locater app. He began rolling at top speed, not concerned if he ran the battery down. Getting there was everything. He wouldn't be taking the same ride back, if he succeeded. He wouldn't need it, if he failed.

"_Let's move, mascots!"_ That was Soemu who had taken the wheel of the newer UTV, with Kantaro perched on the back flatbed. "Breaker breaker, this is Pretty Kitty. We have us a convoy!"

If anyone saw that procession, a rabbit on a small tank leading two UTVs carrying suited mascots, flanked by a roaming and leaping razor-clawed pink bear, they would question there sanity, or blame the light shining in their eyes. The onlookers might question why the men were still suited. The answer was simple, though the reasoning a bit askew. They wanted anonymity, when dealing with an organization that held grudges. They also didn't want to take the time needed to disrobe. As it turned out, two people did notice. One… Kyouko… began walking in their direction against the current of running students, her camera at the ready. She was grabbed by the collar, and hauled along by Maya. The other… Shinji… walked onward, no one coming to _his_ rescue.

"**Shit!"** A loud voice called out. "_Double_ fuck, with a cherry on top!" Those harsh words came from Sousei-jin, mascot of Kagoshima prefecture, a large read alien sausage with antennae on his head. **"Sure!** Don't wait for the guy who doesn't have a cute animal suit!" Arabiki Fukuoka, a used car salesman who once worked for the Tokyo Metropolitan police until he got into a titanic smack down with Wakana, looked at Shinji and said: "What you lookin' at, four eyes."

"Did _you_ want to go with them?" Shinji asked, nonplussed. **"Me too!"** He made his warrior face. As best he could. "Instead of bitching, would you like to find a way?" He was not brave. Not even in his dreams. But, through the zoom lens on his camera, he saw the chute, and surmised that there might be an A.S. in the missile section. He would do anything to see another A.S. in real action. He had been moved to tears seeing that M9 in Khanka.

"You do _that_, and I'll make you an honorary sausage!" Arabiki said. There were numerous people in the Prefecture who would sell their mother for that honor.

"I'll do it," Shinji said, before running. "If you _don't_ make me a sausage!" He headed for the vehicle room, and upon arriving, fired up the Iseki and said: **"Get on!"** He'd never driven anything in his life, not even a bicycle or a go-cart. How hard could it be? "We're off!" He backed the trailer hard into a wall, knocking the giant sausage to his 'ass'. _"Ooops._ I guess 'R' is for reverse.

"**Holy Hell,"** the alien sausage said. "Why did I have to get a nerd Uber?" He had to balance like a surfer, when Shinji put things in top gear and took off abruptly. "You go, four eyes. You go." When they began driving past one of the mushrooms, which had failed to close when a weapons strap got stuck in the door, and the system opened back up automatically, he shouted "STOP." Was that a weapon he caught sight of? More than one?

Dismounting, he ran and picked up a trusty old Carl Gustaf recoilless rifle, an 84 mm man-portable reusable anti-tank weapon produced by Saab Bofors Dynamics. Hw was able to scrounge two rounds in a haversack. Then, about to turn away, he noticed something else. Someone had left a rocket launcher on the ground. It was the Russian RPO-A Shmel.

"I know what _that_ is," Shinji said, perking up. He dismounted and ran to find a rocket for the reload. "Now… something for_ me_…." He almost wet himself with excitement.

"What teenager should be playing with guns?" Arabiki asked, unaware of the irony that was Sgt. Sousuke Sagara. He placed the large weapon on the trailer next to the recoilless rifle. "But… as an honorary sausage… I will still give you _this_." He grabbed a Colt M1911, just a moment before the capsule closed under Sousuke's distant command, burying itself beneath the soil in a corkscrew motion.

"Mannn-nn-n." Shinji wasn't happy, but life wasn't always fair. He was still part of a military operation of a sort, and beggars can't be choosers. "Hi Ho Silver!. _Awaaaa-aaa-aa-ay_…." No. The tractor wasn't silver. It was green. And no, the companion was a big meat product, not a Comanche or Potawatomi Indian. But, in his mind, the boy was a hero, one who watched too many old American black-and-white TV shows. "It would be cool if I had a mask." That was pushing it, to put it mildly.

"Some ladies like that," Arabiki noted. "But I doubt it will do _you_ much good. You look like a stick puppet with glasses. You need to start drinking protein shakes and hitting the gym." He worked out regularly. It wasn't easy wearing a giant costume, hours on end.

"I think I'm allergic to the gym," Shinji replied. But, that would have to change if he ever wanted to try out for the Japan Self-Defense Forces.

While Shinji was arranging a ride for his mascot companion, Sousuke and his platoon had been passing across the large tennis court area, with its eight courts, heading out through a large opening in the tall chain-link boundary wall at the north side of the school grounds. They hit the squeaky-clean concrete street at high speed, treads and tires making a satisfying noise, as they got good purchase. People walking the sidewalks stopped and gawked, mouths agape. Some wondered if there was a parade they hadn't read about. Others wondered if there had been a mass escape from the nearest loony bin.

"**There,"** Soemu called out pointing. "What's _that?"_ He'd seen a glint of light in the sky.

"Let's see," Hiroshi replied, toggling a switch, engaging Gloomy's zoom-vision. "There's a large white chute, suspending a silver payload. The sun is reflecting from it."

"That will be my partner," Sousuke said, as he sped by two and three-story family homes and the occasional veterinary hospital and dentist's office. Luckily, that side street saw little traffic at that time of day. He noticed as one slack-jawed staring child lost a balloon, which floated up over the school yard. A pair of dogs pulled their leashes loose from owners' limp hands, intent on running as fast in the opposite direction as they could. A third dog began chasing after the rear UTV, intent on getting himself a mouthful of mascot ass. The sound of screeching car brakes filled dog owners with a sense of uneasiness. Their dogs must have reached the main thoroughfare.

"This way." After traversing three blocks, Sousuke motioned with one arm, turning his ride left, driving down a small sunken path, which led between whitewashed walls. Thosde walls bordered the Kosaiji Buddhist temple and cemetery in that Wakahacho neighborhood..

"Well, _this_ is convenient." Yoshinobu quipped. "If things go wrong, they won't have to ship us too far to have a service."

"Cram it up your cram hole," Tamon snorted. "That kind of talk is bad fucking luck!" What a freaking turnabout. That morning, shoving all of his mascot gear into his undersized car, he had thought that this would be another boring day.

"It's coming down _there!"_ Kantaro noted. He knew that neighborhood, having grown up a few miles away as a young child. "The Toho Gakuen Daigaku campus area. The closest building is the Toho Elelemntary School. Across the street is an English language school. Next to that is the Chofu Shiritsu Children'sNursey. We're just a hop a skip and a jump away from the Tohojoshichugakko Koto School grounds. There is also a school of Drama and Music a block over." He pointed northeast.

Sousuke braked to a halt. The pathway blind-ended, with a wall to climb over and a small copse of ancient trees just beyond that. He motioned for one of the UTVs to park parallel to the wall, so they could hop over the wall easily, so to speak. The detachable equipment box was used as another step in the impromptu step ladder. The ground shuddered slightly, and the sound of crumbling concrete and breaking glass could be heard. The Arbalest had landed! Luckily, at this time of day, every building except the houses and apartments should be empty, with a skeleton crew at most.

A monk sweeping the graveyard came to look in the direction of the noise. He couldn't see the cause through the trees. He did, however, watch as a large white rabbit and four mascots jumped over the wall, pulling heavy items in sacks or attached to ropes. Were those weapons? No. How could they be? He rubbed his eyes… said a simple prayer… and got back to work.

"**Not again!"** Rushing out between the trees, Sousuke immediately saw a problem. As had happened the time that he had rushed to board the ARX-7 before his fight with Takuma Kugayama and the Behemoth, the capsule had rolled to cover the latch that opened it. This time, he did not have a grenade. He didn't want to risk damaging things with a round from the Carl Gustav or one of the ATGMs. _"The latch is covered!"_

"Let's see what I can do," Hiroshi said, launching Gloomy Bear like a spritely pink grasshopper. He landed in a cool anime pose, right next to his target, just missing a jungle gym set, one of a number of playsets dotting the exercise area, including swings, see-saws, and a four-square court. One of the nearby chalk drawings was that of a teddy bear, which looked nothing like Gloomy. "There's a big read arrow." The latch must be somewhere in that direction. He dialed up the strongest artificial muscle function, and hunkered down behind the capsule. Then, just barely, he was able to move things.

"That's good there," the sharp-eyed Kantaro called out. "I guess I'm beginning to believe the Rabbit. If that's not Alice or the March Hare hiding inside, then I'm thinking there might be an A.S. after all." He felt a strong gust of wind push him to one side, the pressure in their little neck of the woods seeming to dip a bit, momentarily.

Flocks of crows flew up from the trees, forming a spreading black cloud of birds and falling feathers. Sousuke was not one to be superstitious, but it had him thinking a supernatural thought none the same. "The Morrigan," he said out loud, unintentionally. That figure had come up in his reading, when he first embarked on the TDD-1.

The Morrígan is a figure from Irish mythology, sometimes referred to as queen of phantoms in modern Ireland. She is mainly associated with war and fate, especially with foretelling doom, death, or victory in battle. In that role, she often appears as a crow. She incites warriors to battle and can help bring about victory over their enemies. The Morrígan encourages warriors to do brave deeds… strikes fear into their enemies… and is portrayed washing the bloodstained clothes of those fated to die.

"**Crap,"** Soemu said, the only other one who knew that myth. Hr pointed to a series of wash lines, where childrens' in-school uniforms were hung out to dry. The school colors obviously included red, as a number of dark red-colored shirts were attached to the line with clothing pins. "One… two…." He began counting the shirts. He _was _superstitious. "This could signal the end of us all… I really don't feel like tying myself to that gym-set with my intestines."

The Morrígan had an ambiguous relationship with the great Irish hero Cú Chulainn, at one point foretelling a coming battle in which he will be killed. Later in the story, mortally wounded, Cúchulainn tied himself to a standing stone with his own entrails so he could die upright, and it was only when a crow landed on his shoulder that his enemies believed he was finally dead.

Soiusuke knew that the Morrigan was listed among the Tuatha Dé Danann, as one of the daughters of Ernmas, granddaughter of Nuada. There were a few rare accounts where she would join in the battle itself as a warrior and show her favoritism in a more direct manner. Today would be a good day for that! The Tuatha Dé Danann were a supernatural race in Irish mythology, thought to represent the main deities of pre-Christian Gaelic Ireland.

They were said to dwell in the Otherworld, but interact with humans and the human world.. Their traditional rivals are the Fomorians, who seem to represent the harmful or destructive powers of nature, and who the Tuath Dé defeat in the Battle of Mag Tuired. As a matter of mere coincidence, the clouds overhead were getting thicker and grayer, and strong winds blew across the graveyards and into the Elementary schools recreation quadrangle.

"Well, _shit!"_ Tamon said sourly. "Aren't will all just darling rays of sunshine." Rays of sunshine were quite visibly absent, at that moment, with the exception of one stray slant of light, which illuminated a chalk drawing where a red panda seemed to be getting hugged by an orange creature of some sort. Hugged, or crushed lifeless. **"Peachy! **Now _my_ imagination is wandering."

A loud hissing sound filled the area, drowning out traffic noises and a distant rumble of thunder. Sousuke had pulled on the latch, opening the capsule. He climbed up unto Arbalest… or at least tried to. For a few moments, he could not get sufficient traction with his oversized rabbit feet, and looked a bit comical in his efforts. The mascots chuckled, and wished out loud that they had a pack of smokes, a beer, or a good corned beef sandwich. Finally, the young operative opened the cockpit and slid in, large floppy ears and all.

First, Souisuke turned on all systems except Al, leaving the A.I. in slumber mode. He nudged up a switch that activated external speakers. _"Listen up!_ You're here for gold… or glory… good works… whatever. There will be plenty of that all to go around, if you survive. To do that, when you break cover, you must keep on the move… keep clever. You must also keep out from under my feet." He paused. "I will _not_ be looking out for you. I will be preoccupied. Remember, the enemy A.S. has a force shield. So do I. Do not be struck by either one. When the adversary's shield is down, aim for joints or damaged structures."

"Force shields, _schmorce_ fields," Tamon griped. "Do you believe any of that stuff? I'll just wait my time… sneak up behind the enemy bastard… and give him a king-sized kancho he will never fucking forget."

"I have heard word of such things," Kantaro remarked. "I will be keeping my distance and biding my time. I recommend you do the same. That we _all_ do the same."

Forgetting to turn off the external link, Sousuke switched the A.I. on. Preoccupied, leading a small group of unknowns, he also didn't think about keeping Al's 'eyes' inside the cockpit turned off, too. So, as the marvelous mechanical mind ran a check on all systems and body structures, it simultaneously ran down the security checklist.

"Identify yourself," Al said. "This vehicle does not permit hijackers or joy rides. You have ten seconds before I release a paralytic gas."

"It's _me,_ pal." Sousuke said. Those words should remind the A.I. of one person only, the only person who could have keyed in the start code. And, having heard Kaname's voice aboard the submarine, he should be clued into the situation.

"Any human can refer to itself as 'me'." Al said. "If you are indeed human. Name. Rank. ID number. Five seconds."

"Sousuke Sagara," Sousuke said, getting angry. "Sergeant of Mithril. Identification number B-3128."

"Those identifiers match," Al admitted in his synthesized voice. "However, there are obvious incongruities. I see a large white rabbit. You are not a pooka… I am not Elwood P. Dowd… and this is not a scene from the movie 'Harvey'." That was a film that Sousuke was unfamiliar with. "I hear a woman's voice. The sonic structure matches that of Kaname Chidori. But voices can be duplicated. If your mind is indeed that of the Sergeant, tell me something that only he and I would know."

"There is no time for this," Sousuke claimed. "I need you to focus on the outside world. There could be sign of a parachute at any moment. Or, if the enemy landed off grid, he could be rushing towards us now." When the A.I. kept systems on stand-by and weapons locked, without saying another word, each passing second felt like an eternity. _"Fine!_ You have told me that you would rather be a Trans-Am. One time, Kurz Weber said we should agree, but put your core in a P.T. Cruiser or a Pontiac Aztec. You said that you'd rather be put in a Jacuzzi or a toaster oven."

"**Correct!"** Al replied, booting up all remaining functions. "No land movement detected. No falling objects register on my scans, or on high resolution satellite images." He was linked to data collection hubs on Da Danaan. "I have accessed weather satellites. There are no disturbances to the jet stream,or higher atmospheric levels to give notice of an approaching stealth craft."

"_If_ those satellites are not under Amalgam control or influence," Sousuke mused. He moved the A.S. out of its transport capsule, turned about, and removed some weaponry that had been placed on internal racks. He tossed a few large Claymore mine analogs on the ground, accidentally flattening one see-saw. He removed a long string of grenades, looking like an enormous green necklace or string of egg-shaped prayer beads, large enough to adorn a Tyrannosaurus Rex. He wrapped them around Arbalest's waist like a belt. After thinking for a moment, he also placed a brace of small thermobaric charge launchers around one wrist. He could see the long black snake of smoke rising high in the sky above Jindai High. He paused, listening. A message came in from Da Danaan. Cruise missile were on the way. He would have control of the terminal path of each missile, unless he chose to slave them to Al.

"I have been researching human relations," Al said independently. "One thing that appears to strengthen bonds is humor. I am certain that Sgt. Major Mao and Sgt. Weber will find images of the rabbit suit to be funny. Commander Mardukas and Lt. Commander Kalinin probably will not. Captain Testarossa may find it… cute. I still need a better understanding of that word, as well as 'kawaii'. If you could-"

"**Denied!"** Sousuke said sharply. He removed the rabbit head and tossed it aside. "You will _not _show anyone pictures of me. This is a combat situation. Those pictures will be classified." That wasn't true. But, that lie might save him a lot of grief.

"Understood," Al said. Sousuke thought that would be the end of its verbosity. He was mistaken. The A.I. began singing, precisely mimicking a song that it had 'heard' on the internet. Sousuke had mistakenly mentioned 'Google' to the machine once upon a time.

_Here comes Peter Cottontail,_

_Hopping' down the bunny trail,_

_Hippity, hoppity,_

_Easter's on its way._

_Bringing' every girl and boy Baskets full of Easter joy,_

_Things to make your Easter bright and gay._

_He's got jellybeans for Tommy,_

_Colored eggs for sister Sue,_

_There's an orchid for your Mommy_

_And an Easter bonnet, too._

_Oh! here comes Peter Cottontail,_

_Hopping' down the bunny trail,_

_Hippity hoppity,_

_Happy Easter day._

"**Cease that!"** Sousuke was aghast. Why would a machine find such a song , number one; why would it bother to sing it, number two?

Marvin Engelberger, a Mithril Robotics engineer, was working at the forefront of human-machine relationships, and had made a number of programming changes to Al, wanting to temporarily test a number of titillating theorems, not concerned that any of the changes would adversely affect pilot competency or battle readiness. In his view, machines were moving away from the role of passive objects into the position of active subjects. Donning a mantle of machine-centered thinking, he wanted to discover how to better understand artificial intelligences and promote an equal relationship with humans, without either domination or isolation. His current concepts focused on three main topics: Respect… Communication… and Trust.

On the subject of respect, an A.I. should be thought to have its own independent needs, viewpoints, and intentions. On the subject of communication, a machine should learn to help in decision making, and conversations should help shape its behavior. And, on the subject of trust, the robot should expect fairness, a sense of security, and explanations when appropriate.

_The engineer may have put undo emphasis on the communications end of things._

"If you do not find that humorous," Al began. "Then I will reference the other perceived comical situation." He began singing again, this time his voice indistinguishable from that of Helen Reddy:

_I am woman, hear me roar  
In numbers too big to ignore  
And I know too much to go back an' pretend  
'Cause I've heard it all before  
And I've been down there on the floor  
No one's ever gonna keep me down again_

_Oh yes, I am wise  
But it's wisdom born of pain  
Yes, I've paid the price  
But look how much I gained  
If I have to, I can do anything  
I am strong  
(Strong)  
I am invincible  
(Invincible)  
I am woman_

"**I am **_**not**_** a woman!"** Sousuke regretted losing his temper, but the A.I. was like a buzzing fly that he could not swat. "And the circumstance you are referring to is Top Secret. If you divulge secrets, you are a traitor. Are you a traitor, soldier?" That ought to work. But, better to be safe. He new a slur that the A.I. would take the robot equivalent of offense at. "With that singing, you are beginning to remind me of Bumble Bee from the 'Transformer' movies.

"There is no need for insults, Sergeant." Al quickly replied. "I was merely attempting to further the rectification of the problem you referenced in Hong Kong."

"Duly noted," Sousuke said, somewhat surprised that the A.I. would keep records of their prior poor relationship, or truly have any real understanding of the significance of the turnaround. He began plotting possible paths of movement in the surrounding area… best sites of cover… fire angles… and the like… even though he knew that no plan survives contact with the enemy.

"Question," Al said in his deadpan voice. "You said that there is no longer a problem. What is the opposite of a problem?" He pondered the various entries on thesauruses and dictionaries. "Advantage? Agreement? Blessing? Peace? Benefit? Compatibility?"

"Now is _not_ the time for this," Sousuke said. He was wondering if this combat encounter would have any surprises. No, not from the opposition standpoint, but from 'his' own. Were any of his actions today the result of influence of Kaname's habits or tendencies that might still linger in her brain? Would his reflexes and decisions be influenced as well?

"I suppose that some things may not be polar," Al remarked. "Like there is no anti-rabbit or anti-woman." It pondered a moment, lights blinking on and off on one panel. "Perhaps the correct answer is 'no problem' or 'absense of a problem."

"Or solution," Sousuke said. That answer had come out of the blue, but carried with it a hint of finality, and hopefully machine silence. "The opposite of problem is solution."

"That makes sense," Al said. "Solutions are good. If they do not find a solution for the Top Secret situation, then I will adjust, to keep our relationship intact." That last sentence was said in a woman's voice.

"What are you _doing,_ Al?!" Souske asked, teeth grinding.

"You call me pal," Al replied, in the feminine voice. "If things remain as they are, I suspect I will then need to be a gal-pal, will I not, to keep things equivalent. I can ask the engineers to add the pony-tail like structures that some Codarls have. They could also paint my finger tops like fingernails. Also-"

"**No!'** Sousduke bit off. _"No!"_ He clenched 'his' fists. "And most definitely _not!"_ His exasperation led to a slip of the tongue. "What _is it _with robot brains. You are giving me as much trouble as Al Junior!"

"I have a son?" The A.I. spoke in a male voice again. A number of panels lit up, all bulbs glowing. "He was causing trouble? Perhaps I should speak to him. Accessing. Understood. A father in his role is charged with the responsibility of fostering a drive for success within the man he would call his son. A father is also charged with the responsibility of teaching his son priorities that will promote success as well as the tools to succeed and be proud and live in as well as live through that success. Father and son should exist independently and function interdependently at the same time. Learning from one another and growing through their own individual lives. But, when fathers are disengaged from their children's lives, the results are nothing short of disastrous, along a number of dimensions. Diminished self-concept and compromised physical and emotional security. Behavioral problems. Truancy and poor academic performance. Delinquency and youth crime, including violent crime. Promiscuity and teen pregnancy. Drug and alcohol abuse. Homelessness. Exploitation and abuse. Physical health problems. Mental health disorders. Trouble in relationships. Early death. When this combat is complete, I should-"

"**Shut up!"** Sousuke shouted, cringing at 'his' voice, having been shouted down himself with that voice on numerous occasions. "Pay attention to the sensors!"

"Do not be concerned, Sergeant." Al replied helpfully. "I can multi-task."

"_Grrrr-rrr-rr-r."_ Sousuke knew that he should not let Al get to him. He had trouble enough dealing with him on his own. But, this felt worse than usual. He blamed 'The Kaname effect.'

"They sound like an old married couple,_ don't_ they?" Soemu spoke to Kantaro.

"And this is the guy… I mean girl…. who's going to lead us in battle?" Tamon spat. He had more than a few misogynistic characteristics. "Well fuck me. I better get _double _pay for this."

"Gloomy!" Hiroshi felt a protective instinct swell up within him, thinking of his ailing daughter again. He would have given his best for any soldier. But for a girl, he would take whatever risks were necessary to keep her safe.

"Sergeant!" Al's voice was somehow more intense. "I have a reading of note. It is not a slowly descending object. Rather, something large is moving with a quick rate of descent."

"What _is _it, Al." Sousuke asked. Tensing up. The time was here. The only question was what was the foe? That, and who might the pilot be?

"Unknown." Al replied.

"Come on Al, I need you to do better than that!" Sousuke re-checked the status of all weapons. If he knew the nature of the threat, he could better decide where to stand and which weapon to begin with.

"Unknown." Al replied again.

"Is it an aircraft?" Sousuke asked. "A drone?" He swore under his breath. It didn't sound like a cruise missile or larger bodied rocket. It would have struck already. "I need to know, Al."

"Unknown." Al said for the third time.

"Just my luck," Sousuke said. But, it was par for the course. How many times had he been surprised or caught off guard by enemy forces? He was certain of one thing, however, without knowing the truth of the matter. The machine would no doubt have a Lambda Driver. If Amalgam expected the ARX-7 to be in operation, that capacity would be a must. But, if there was only one machine, how powerful might it be? Anyone in that organization should have record of what he did against Gates and the others.

"I expect your luck to be good, Sergeant." The A.I. opined. "In some cultures, the foot of a rabbit is carried as an amulet believed to bring good luck. This belief is held by individuals in a great number of places around the world, including Europe, China, Africa, and North and South America. In variations of this superstition, the donor rabbit must possess certain attributes, have been killed in a particular place, killed by a particular method, or by a person possessing particular attributes… for example, by a cross-eyed man."

"That-" Sousuke couldn't get a word in yet.

"The belief in North American folklore may originate in the system of folk magic known as 'hoodoo'," Al noted. "First, not any foot from a rabbit will do: it is the left hind foot of a rabbit that is useful as a charm. Second, not any left hind foot of a rabbit will do; the rabbit must have been shot or otherwise captured in a cemetery. Third, at least according to some sources, not any left hind foot of a rabbit shot in a cemetery will do: the phase of the moon is also important. Some authorities say that the rabbit must be taken in the full moon, while others hold instead that the rabbit must be taken in the new moon. Some sources say instead that the rabbit must be taken on a Friday, or a rainy Friday, or Friday the 13th. Some sources say that the rabbit should be shot with a silver bullet, while others say that the foot must be cut off while the rabbit is still alive."

"It doesn't really-" Sousuke thought about shutting down the A.I.s vocals; but, that would not serve in battle. Al's loquaciousness would cease upon the moment of conflict. Wouldn't it?

"The various rituals suggested by the sources, though they differ widely one from another, share a common element of the uncanny, and the reverse of what is considered good-omened and auspicious," Al continued. "A rabbit is an animal into which shapeshifting witches such as Isobel Gowdie claimed to be able to transform themselves. Witches were said to be active at the times of the full and new moons. These widely varying circumstances may share a common thread of suggestion that the true lucky rabbit's foot is actually cut from a shapeshifted witch."

"Who believes in witches these days," Sousuke said sternly. "Besides, you have overlooked one important consideration. Anyone depending on the rabbit's foot should remember it didn't work for the rabbit. Right?"

"-" There was background noise, but no vocal response. At least, not at first. "In the future, you might consider a four-leaf clover. And a horse shoe. Or a lucky charm of some sort. I see. That might prove helpful. I understand that there is a brand of breakfast cereal named Lucky Charms. Also-"

"Hey pal," Sousuke said. While the A.I. could happily multi-task, doing its tasks and chores as well or better than a human, Sousuke found his mind growing distressed and distracted. That was different from usual. Again. But, there might be a way to shift the machines secondary, tertiary, or lower level computing to a different subject. "Question. Do androids dream of electric sheep?"

Al was silent for a while, checking its own memory units, and accessing Google and other search engines.

Sousuke's annoyance vanished in the air. The radar was picking up an object over Jindai High. Al was sounding a warning. Partially obscured by the crown of the tallest tress, he caught a glimpse of something. Something orange. Something growing larger by the moment.

It was on a collision course.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**THE SKY OVER TOKYO**

Soaring high above Tokyo, the orange A.S. was secure between the prongs at the nose of the plan 1102-Chazaqiel, like a newborn kitten carried gently in the mouth of its mother.

Sitting in the Venom-derivative… which its builders had christened Temeluchus… Miyamoto Bokuden sat in growing excitement, his level of maturity commensurate with his age, not with the gravitas attached to the bearer of a mineral name in Amalgam.

A secret he kept to himself, he hated the name of his craft, just as he hated the skulking sycophant scientists and egomaniacal engineers who built it, and the wealthy family members who had financed it. He called his craft Lucas II, which was _not_ simply a shortening, but also an homage to one of the few men who had actually made a positive difference in his life. But, he _did_ appreciate the characteristics of the Christian demon namesake.

Temeluchus is the leader of the tartaruchi, the keepers of Tartarus... of Hell. He had been viewed as the chief angel of torment, according to the extracanonical 'Apocalypse of Paul'. In addition to being described as 'a merciless angel, all fire,' he has the surprising designation as a caretaking angel set over children at birth or during infancy.

That was another coincidence.

"To be honest," the Whispered said to himself, "I don't hate the bitch as much as I hate my family." He shrugged, seething at the memory of his shaming at the hands of Ayame Chidori. Those he hated most were still useful to him, in one way or another. The one thing that they had taught him well, was that people were of practical use, to be discarded when spent or no longer of value. "But… I can get my revenge on _her_…." He had reasons why he had to tolerate his closest relatives.

There was a recurring dream he had, one that had God rendering judgment on his uncle, the most powerful man in the family, and one of the unofficial policy makers of Amalgam. In that, the words of the text took on a life of their own:

**_Yet again I looked upon the river of fire, and I saw there an old man who was being dragged along, immersed up to the knees. And Temeluchus came with a great fork of fire with which he pierced the entrails of that old man._**

"She is convenient," the pilot mused, thinking of a long line of women who had insulted him or ignored him, women he had been unable to 'thank' in a suitable manner. "She will do." Ayame Chidori could be used as a scapegoat, a totem, a changeling. The sins of all those other whores and witches could be placed on _her _head. In one quick act, he could relieve years of pent up hatred and climb another rung on the ladder of manhood. "She will do nicely." There was another dream he had on more than one occasion, one that would now serve his newest tormentor:

**_I looked and I saw a woman upon a spit of fire, and beasts tearing at her, and she was not suffered to say: Lord, have mercy on me. And I saw the angel of torments Temeluchus laying most fierce torments upon her saying: Acknowledge the Son of God. For it was told you before, but when the scriptures of God were read to you, you paid no attention: where the judgment of God is just, for your evil doings have taken hold of you, and brought you into these torments._**

The wonderful sounds of Classical music no longer filled the cockpit. Mr. Magnesium had accessed iTunes and switched over to a particular song, one that peaked at number two on the UK Singles Charts... topped the charts in six other countries, including Australia, Ireland, and the United States... and was voted No. 2 on VH1's _40 Greatest One-Hit Wonders of the '90s_:

_I'm too sexy for my love  
Too sexy for my love  
Love's going to leave me_

_I'm too sexy for my shirt  
Too sexy for my shirt  
So sexy it hurts  
And I'm too sexy for Milan  
Too sexy for Milan  
New York, and Japan  
I'm too sexy for your party  
Too sexy for your party  
No way I'm disco dancing_

_'Cause I'm a model, you know what I mean  
And I do my little turn on the catwalk  
Yeah, on the catwalk  
On the catwalk, yeah  
I shake my little tush on the catwalk_

The Whispered boy began brimming over with a sense of injustice, bubbling up with dark gaseous urges of vengeance and retribution. He had been mocked as a model. His very soul was stained. His mentor's memory was tarnished. What a joy it would be, to wipe that smug look off of Ayame Chidori's face, by wiping that face off of her skull! He considered himself a stone-cold killer in everything that he did. It was no coincidence, that everyone who initially put the crosshairs on him eventually ended up a target. And, his targets didn't usually make it away unscathed.

The smug and vain young man who had originally played that song from Right Said Fred while Miyamoto took his turn on the runway at the last modelling walk off, had laughed at his fine joke, and much of the crowd chortled and chuckled with him. The next day, he had been found in a roadside gutter barely alive, and many of the other comical crowd had found their way to various clinics and hospital Emergency Rooms.

Yes, he had a temper. And yes, he was a bit thin-skinned. But, with thy early life that he had led, a good many folk would understand why. And, it was only partly by accident that he ended up at Amalgam, as one of the youngest A.S. pilots ever, along with the snooty Leonard Testarossa, whose precociousness and primping creeped a lot of people out. Not that a single person dared let _that _on. How he wished that he could mess that Bishōnen up big time.

"Well, the stuck-up jerk told me not to touch Kaname Chidori," Mr. Magnesium said. "He didn't say anything about Ayame now, _did_ he?" By hurting Kaname Chidori that way, would he hurt Leonard? If no, then no loss. If yes, how splendid! Of course, he was already treading on dangerous ground, seeing that Mr. Silver had pronounced that Jindai High should be left intact. He would need to think up a good excuse for any deaths and destruction! Not to mention, he had sort of killed the pilot that had been sent out in Lucas, without his permission, a distraction that wasn't really necessary. Did someone in Amalgam doubt his skills at undercover work? _Idiots!_ "Of course. I erroneously heard that Arbalest was going to show up from that coward who refused to pilot dear Lucas to the school. I had to return to face Sagara, not to kill anyone in particular! I was willing to risk my life, to destroy the only Lambda Driver Mithril has. What a selfless guy I am!" He truly did wish that the ARX-7 would show up; but, Sagara was nowhere to be seen.

_I'm too sexy for my car  
Too sexy for my car  
Too sexy by far  
And I'm too sexy for my hat  
Too sexy for my hat  
What do you think about that?_

_'Cause I'm a model, you know what I mean  
And I do my little turn on the catwalk  
Yeah, on the catwalk  
On the catwalk, yeah  
I shake my little tush on the catwalk_

_Too sexy for my  
Too sexy for my  
Too sexy for my  
'Cause I'm a model, you know what I mean  
And I do my little turn on the catwalk  
Yeah, on the catwalk  
On the catwalk  
Yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk_

_Too sexy for my cat  
Too sexy for my cat  
_

"Poor pussy," Miyamoto couldn't help singing that line. "Poor pussy caaa-aa-at." The song may bring back black memories; but, the way that part was sung was just sooo-oo-o cool. He wondered how many people in history have denied the fact that they sing those lines too. Well, they were not as self assured as _he_ was!_  
_

_I'm too sexy for my love  
Too sexy for my love  
Love's going to leave me_

_And I'm too sexy for this song._

The pilot pushed a lever upward preparing for his dramatic descent. No. He was not like the majority of air-dropped A.S. jockeys. He was _not _going to float down on a stodgy parachute, all practical and passé.

"Transformation commencing," the voice of Lucas' A.I. reported. "Wing set extending." Small bays had opened at the nose of the Bat. Poles holding dense and somewhat pliable composites extended outward, lining up well fashioned shaped component as at either side of the A.S., before metallic manipulators did their work. "Applying explosive bolts." The next step in the procedure attached the structures to the Arm Slave. "Transformation complete. Awaiting drop command."

"I'm too sexy, indeed." Miyamoto checked the view on external cameras, both on the Bat and on Lucas, after looking at his reflection on a mirror black material attached to the back of one of his gloves. The large composite add-ons, in toto, had taken on the form of the world's largest wingsuit, giving the A.S. enough lift capacity to descend rapidly, under complete control, with a wide field of maneuverability, and great range. "Me and my batsuit." That was one name wingsuit aficionados gave their suits, which had firstbeen called birdsuits, and later squirrel suits, from their resemblance to flying squirrels' wing membranes.

His set-up did include a parachute. But, unlike those used by wing-suiters, his was merely a means to produce sufficient drag for landing, before the chute was detached, like the chute at the rear of the X-15 and Thrust SSC, the first car to break the sound barrier..

**"Hah!"** He laughed at and image that came to mind. One of the things he had come to love about Modeling was the groupies. "They always say that they will do anything for me… and they often do…." Unlike many youths his age, he was very much a sexual animal, and had begun his explorations at a relatively early age. "I know that _these_ ladies will, too." He flicked a number of small toggle switches, each situated underneath green-glowing crystal lenses. A select number of Drop-Pods were now set to 'go,' and would descend from the Bat via chutes whenever he pushed a large red button.

Each designated pod held a pair of Arm Slaves: not the large pilot-driven types that most people think of, hearing that name. Rather, they held something akin to the Plan-1211 Alastors, whose name came from Christian demonology, referring to a possessing entity likened to Nemesis. The name Alastor was also used as a generic term for a class of evil spirits. The reason for the similarity was simple. Branch family members were involved in the manufacture of the plan 1211s. He had spies swipe those plans and paid manufacturers to create his own version. The Groupies, as he called them, bore a sleek hourglass figure, and their smooth featureless faces were topped by various female hairdo shapes fashioned from the hardest of metals. They did not wear the drab and disgusting garb of the Alastors. Instead, some were clad in long sweeping gowns, while others wore schoolgirl blouses and skirts… halter tops and cut-offs… or scanty lingerie.

"Let's see…." Miyamoto wrinkled up his forehead while debating which protocol to enact. He could set the Groupies on 'hunter-killer,' having them attack any living thing they came across. He could fine tune that function, selecting for age, sex, height, mode of dress, whatever. He could set them on 'perimeter control,' which would have them form a perimeter around his playground, keeping police and arriving JSDF personnel at bay, leaving him uninterrupted. He could simply switch things over to 'Lucas' choice,' where the similarly named A.I. would assess for threats and control the semi-autonomous robots itself. Or, among the other remaining choices, he could simply have them shadow his craft, awaiting further orders. "Decisions… decisions…." Not wanting to spare even a single brain cell from his projected rampage, he gave the A.I. full control for now.

"Lucas," he said. "Give me access to ground mapping radars and satellite links." The Bat's sweeping route had about come to its end. He would detach soon, as the mother craft went on to fly a predetermined path, waiting at his beck and call. _"Why-"_ The long distance scan showed a large number of persons outside of Jindai High, moving in large groups against one another. But, as he watched grainy images, that changed. _"How-"_ The persons now seemed to be moving in one direction, like a huge herd of wildebeests. "Curiouser and curiouser." He frowned, eyes narrowing. He felt his temper flare. What if he couldn't find Ayame specifically? "No problem. I will just kill them all, and let God sort her out. And, if she should live? I will leave word that the deaths are all because of her." That would hurt, would it not? Maybe the girl would kill herself in shame, or to make the psychological pain stop.

"Thirty seconds to drop," Lucas called out. "With your agreement, pods will release when you do."

Miyamoto licked his lips. "Sounds good." This was the stuff of dreams for him. It would be the stuff of nightmares fore the students and teachers, and anyone else foolish enough to wander upon the scene of devastation. "Lucas. Panel three. Enlarge." He was referring to one of the viewscreens showing the airspace over Tokyo. "Enlarge again, fivefold." The feed was from one of a set of small four-rotor airborne drones that had been secreted around the school earlier in the day. The image was unmistakable. It was a large chute suspending a transport cannister, no doubt released when the outer panels of a submarine or land-launched missiles were blown off. He knew his guess must be a reality. "Arbalest." Speak of the Devil, and he appears!

"Ten seconds to drop," the A.I. noted.

**"Shit,"** Mr. Magnesium swore. The arrival of Arbalest did not discomfort him. It simply meant that he had a choice to make. He could go on his murderous mission, and then face the wrath of an avenging Mithril A.S.; or, he could destroy the ARX-7, and then return to commit his nefarious deed. Or, if the fight took place at the school, that would be reason enough to explain collateral damage. "Logic says…." If he took on the enemy A.S. first, many of the victims would get away, no longer potential victims. Was that acceptable? **"Fuck no!" **His flaring temper was in the catbird seat, for now. So what if turning his attention away from the Mithril Arm Slave might put him at a disadvantage!

His past life called out for justice.

All of the iniquities, suffered against the front of wealth and privilege. The denials. The losses. The tragic disappearance. That all called out for blood.

What could better supply that blood, than the death of his most recent tormentor?!

When he had been born, he had been a means to an end, a necessary heir. His parents, Japanese who had impossibly bought stratospheric titles and well-manicured mansions in France and England, wanted nothing to do with him personally, simply wanting to make certain that he was never a reason for them to be seen as pariahs by their fellow gentry. They had left him in the care of an able manservant, Lucas Millepied, who watched over every aspect of his life, reporting back to the parents in general, but keeping many things in the realm of secrets. As such, he was raised in the open the way that a Lord should be raised, taught those things a Lord should be taught, and tutored in a Lord's responsibility. Freedom, bound by conformity. Opportunity, hamstrung by duty and appearances. But, in the shadows, he was shown and taught so much more. He was allowed to see, and to choose. As a child, he chose those things that pleased his tutor, as much as he chose those things which pleased himself. Indeed, the two things were essentially one. He never learned anything about the land of his birth, and felt no connection to its peoples.

The Arts. Thins to see, and things to do… himself… or with others whose class would be looked down upon by his parents. Ways to expand his mind and spirit beyond that of a mere nobleman, while enjoying many of the sports and spectacles that those bluebloods did. And so, he rode horses, hunting with hounds and growing adept at polo. He sat through operas. He walked through museums and cruised on yachts. But, beyond simply watching ballet, he became a participant in that style of dance. Through that crowd, he had also discovered an even greater love and talent, modeling. That and many other things that the child of a noble family should _never _partake in. One such thing was photography, behind the lens and in front of it, where he posed in a manner unbefitting a man of manners and etiquette, and snapped roll after roll of film on subjects that would make a woman of good breeding blush or fall faint.

Life had been wonderful, until the shit hit the fan. Lucas had been unfailingly discreet, and had taught him to be the same. But, a young man with raging hormones can sometimes lose his way, enraptured by the fairer sex. Something he had said, or something he had done, had led to wagging tongues. Those tongues had wagged too much, in just the wrong place, at just the wrong time. His secret life had been brought to light. He had been told that Lucas had quit his job, when he knew that the truth must be something else, something much darker, something steeped in blood and death.

He had been commanded to avoid ballet. He did not listen, no matter how many times the ugly men in rough clothing beat him, and how long he had been confined without food. He had especially been denied modelling, as a Lord should not go 'striding along like a gay pony, with his manhood practically hanging out.' Those words echoed the denouncement of ballet, and his defiance invited the same stick, so to speak. But that very defiance was his lightning rod. It was the reason that he had focused all of his energies on modelling henceforth, with that drive and his natural beauty catapulting him into the upper reaches of the profession.

What happened next, was still shrouded in mystery. What was certain, was that his youthful trust of women had led him astray. Full of himself, of his youth and beauty, he had been drinking and bragging with women of darker virtues after one show, somewhat tipsy after drinking with the other male models.

He had been shanghaied, and woke up in the jungles of a distant island.

He had been held for ransom, which his family had refused to pay. It was possible that he had been kidnapped for money. But, he couldn't be certain that his family hadn't arranged for the capture, to have him removed from their lives, or to teach him a lesson, to leave him begging to return to a _proper_ life of nobility.

"I wouldn't be where I am today without those assholes," Miyamoto said, thinking back to those days on the island. The assholes he meant were his family. He had thought the rough captors to be assholes, too; but, they would become his real family, albeit for such a brief time. He wouldn't be the man that he was today… not yet an adult in some cultures, but a man just the same…if it wasn't for that kidnapping! He also wouldn't be seated at the controls of an Arm Slave, one which he had appropriated, when he returned to his previously disinterested family, a formidable tool, and a feather in his uncle's cap. His uncle allowed him his modelling, as long as he filled the family coffers, serving their benefactors in Amalgam.

He had been used as a servant on a mercenary base, that position being a fine joke to the scarred and smelly men who hated nobility. He had been intended to be a sex slave to the soldiers who rarely saw women, but had castrated one of them, and had shockingly won their protection as a result. They worked him at hard tasks; but, because of his dark spirit, they made him one of their own. One day, sent to clean a Venom of mud and vines… one of the treasured newer machines the group had been given by their bosses in Amalgam… he had snuck into the cockpit, put on a helmet, pretending to be a pilot like many other lads his age might have. What he hadn't expected, was to accidentally turn the A.S. on… _and _to inadvertently manipulate the Lambda Driver.

He had expected harsh punishment.

Instead, he was treated as a true treasure, and taught the ropes of brutal and beastial A.S. combat. In short time, he was able to best men who had been fighting since the first Arm Slaves had been created. He was able to best them singly, or when they came at him in small and large groups. He would have eventually led their company, if the ripe fruit had not been plucked from the branch by their benefactors. He was shown to be Whispered, something that he had never realized earlier. The organization having gotten word, he was appropriated by Amalgam. In the Whispered state, he provided his uncle with data regarding incredibly advanced pint-size nuclear reactors that could be daisy-chained in large numbers to power immense jet engines or provide motive force to undersea craft. The United States and Russia had tried to develop nuclear powered aircraft in the 50s and 60s, stopping because of cost, environmental concerns, and the birth of the ICBM. While Black Technology was prohibitively expensive, it did not have any drawbacks.

"There aren't many like me," the pilot said as Lucas called out "Dropping now!" He was Whispered. He was male. He was an ace Arm Slave pilot. He carried the name of one of the minerals that could form an amalgam with mercury. And he could relate to the Greek god Mercury, who besides being the god of eloquence, luck, and trickery, was also the guide of souls to the underworld.

He felt a slight shudder as the orange A.S. was released from its perch. He then felt a sharp free-fall sensation, as he kept the A.S. arms tight against its sides. Then, sweeping the arms out, he felt sudden resistance, and felt as if he were rising and not falling. The 'wings' had caught the air. He was on his way. "Not many at all."

The A.I. spoke again: "All drop pods released successfully. Chutes are all open."

He attempted not to think of Leonard. Instead, he focused his thoughts on another young soul who had gone through hell like himself, and had used his experience to make himself a monster at such a young age. Sousuke Sagara. He had wanted to see that boy at the school, had wanted to see a kindred spirit, even if he couldn't admit that truth. He wasn't looking for a friend, as he had no use for such things. Now… at that very instant… what he _did_ want was a rival. A rival, and then a defeated opponent. A defeated opponent he could steal all hope from, crushing the life out of him, while breaking the hearts of his friends and his commanding officers.

"Choices… choices…"

He didn't have much time to chose. Speeding down on a trajectory that would take him to Jindai High School, he watched the images projected onto the cabin's screens. Rushing students. A huge towering pillar of fire and smoke. Mascots, most of whom were running for cover, but one who strangely enough was being towed by a tractor.

But, the thing that caught his attention most was something that he no longer saw. The chute was gone. The cannister must be down.

"Victory… or Vengeance…." He sniffed the cockpit air. A wondrous scent filled his nostrils. It came from automatic air fresheners, serving the purpose of the iconic pine trees hung from the rearview mirrors of passenger cars across the years. Did he want to shoot fish in a barrel, killing the Jindai bugs beneath him? Or did he want to land a big game fish, taking down the scar-faced Sergeant, no mere insect? His volatile personality had switched sides again. "Hmmm…." He sniffed again. "It smells like Victory."

He laughed aloud, fire in his eyes and heart. **_"Fuck_ logic!"** He had changed his mind. Hatred would have to wait its turn.

He pulled back on the control stick, slaved to the outboard 'wings.' The glide path rose in azimuth, as he corrected the descent vector. He had a rough idea of what group of city blocks the Arbalest must have landed. He could steer his craft to the most minute degree when necessary, striking the adversary, before using a ballet dancer's grace to land the A.S. on its feet in a position of great advantage.

To some, his choice might seem suicidal. Hadn't Sgt. Sousuke Sagara made mincemeat of Mr. Kalium and his compadres, on that fateful day in Hong Kong? How could Mr. Magnesium hope to do any better? "Kalium is just Potassium…." And the reason that Potassium is written as 'K'. "Potassium is the second least dense metal after lithium. It is so soft that it can be easily cut with a knife." He conveniently forgot to remember the fact that pure polycrystalline magnesium, which tarnishes easily, is brittle and easily fractures along shear bands, and only becomes ductile when alloyed with small amount of other metals.

"Alert… alert… alert…."

Lucas' voice throbbed inside Miyamoto's helmet. The volume was higher than usual, because the detected threat was so great. "Satellite images show launch of multiple cruise missile from a site in the Phillipine Sea The missiles have a trajectory that will bring them to Tokyo."

"Launch two full-sized drones for every missile," Miyamoto told the A.I. in a calm voice. The Mig-41 derivatives were armed with weaponry suited for downing slow-moving weapons as well as interceptor speed aircraft, and could be also used as kamikazes if necessary. "Destroy all incoming missiles, and keep watch for any additional launches. Protect this A.S. with highest priority; but, insure the safety of the Bat as well. We don't want to have to walk home."

To those in the know, the difference between Mithril and Amalgam pilots and machines painted a stark picture. Looking at things from the perspective of Amalgam, the situation was somewhat of an irritation. Even against hardware guaranteed to be far superior, members of the SRT would not yield. Mobilizing with experience and skill, elasticity and unpolished intuition, in the end the outclassed and outgunned Mithril stalwarts continued to resist. Finally they would find an opportunity and Amalgam Lambda Driver equipped opponents would succumb to a fatal counterattack.

That arose from a difference in skill.

The Lambda Driver equipped ASes of Amalgam required the operator to take medications prior to starting up the equipment. The fundamental principle of the Codarl's Lambda Driver was most probably the same as the Arbalest's; but, Sousuke Sagara… the only soldier Mithril had who could use the Lambda Driver…did _not_ require any medication. Over time, Sagara and the Arbalest had exhibited a mental state which could not be reproduced by a medicine prescription. It was probably brought forth by the concentration and strong will Sagara had forged by living as a soldier from such a young age.

Although the Arbalest was unstable, it had an overwhelming strength in a complete situation. The Codarl type Arm Slaves exhibited stable functioning, but did not exhibit the instant strength of the Arbalest. To say it simply, the Codarl was a unit for exterminating ordinary ASes, whereas the Arbalest was designed to fight with an AS equipped with an Lambda Driver. Of course, there were Codarl/Venom derivatives that had broken the mold.

Mr. Magnesium had read the preliminary report that defined that theory about the two organizations, one written by Amalgam scientists and engineers. Everything they surmised was true, but only in the general sense. Temeluchus was a stable machine. He himself did _not_ require medicines, perhaps thanks to the mental strength that he had obtained, living the life that he had. If anything, _he _was unstable; but he had overwhelming strength when the situation called for it. With the modifications made to his A.S., he might well be on more than an equal footing than the famous Sagara.

That was a possibility because his skill level was far above most of the Amalgam scum who had spent many years piloting Arm Slaves. He was a natural. A savant. All he lacked was experience in a major war, or a fight with a near peer.

The only Amalgam pilot with a clearly better machine was that arrogant bastard Leonard. But, all_ he_ had was a mechanical advantage. He was Whispered too, and that was a benefit in itself. But he didn't have a level of skill commensurate with his mechanical prowess, and he did not have the emotional strength needed to be the best. With his good looks, he could have been a model himself; but, he had mocked the modelling culture, and all who participated in it. Maybe some day he could take out his anger on that pretty boy prick, when he wasn't in his ridiculously overpowered Belial, and when he didn't have his own Groupies… the Arastols… around. Maybe he could find that Chidori girl… capture her alive… and use her as bait to lure Leonard into some kind of trap.

"Wishful thinking." Leonard was sneaky smart, and very cautious. He was also like a spider in a great web of information. Somehow, he knew everything going on in the long term. On the short term, he was no slouch. What did that bastard know that most other people didn't? What was his true advantage? No time to think about that now!

As Temeluchus sped over the Jindai High campus, the onboard systems scanned and mapped out the neighborhoods below it, presenting them at the top of the cockpit's H.U.D. One in particular quadrant was flashing, for good reason. Telescopic imaging depicted a lone white Arm Slave, one that had taken on a near mythic reputation in the eyes of other Amalgam soldiers.

Arbalest.

Yes, to the weaker souls, the ones whose wills had abandoned their hearts and loins and hid somewhere nearer their ass, Arbalest was the monster in their closets… the creature lurking in the shadows under their beds… the guy who starts scratching his long, razor-sharp nails on their windowpane the instant they draw the curtains and turn out the lights… the worst of the Things That Go Bump in the Night. Yes. It was the reason that the weak-willed pilots stay under the covers.

"The Bogeyman," Miyamoto Bokuden said with a smirk, now well within striking range. He would not bring up a weapon, not yet. In this first strike, all of Lucas would be the weapon. "To others, Sousuke Sagra is that creature." With precise control, he activated the Lambda Driver and formed dense pillars of force at the surface of the Arm Slave's clenched fists.

The Bogeyman is a mythical creature used by adults to frighten children into good behavior. It has no specific appearance… conceptions varying drastically by household and by culture… but is commonly depicted as a masculine or androgynous monster that punishes children for misbehavior. The beasts may target a specific act or general misbehavior, depending on what purpose needs serving, often based on a warning from the child's authority figure. The term 'Bogeyman' is also used as a non-specific personification or metonym for terror, much the same way 'Devil' is.

Almost every nation has its version of the mythical being. For example, In Latin countries such as Brazil, Portugal, Spain, and the countries of Spanish America, he is portrayed as a man with a sack on his back who carries naughty children away. And, as the dear Sergeant must know, in Afghanistan, The Madar-i-Al is a nocturnal hag that kills infants in their cribs and is invoked to frighten children into obedience.

**"Ah!"** Miyamoto's eyes widened. He remembered something apropos.

One creature, in the United States, had a name that invoked images of a hokey B-movie that he had watched with Lucas, back when his parents had demanded that he cease watching drivel of that sort, and where family spies could be anyone and anywhere. In America, that bogeyman's name was Rawhead. The movie had been 'Rawhead Rex.'

"I am close to invincible, like Rawhead," Mr. Magnesium opined. The monster in that movie arose from a field in rural Ireland, when three farmer were attempting to remove an ominous stone column from their farmland. A thunderstorm appeared out of nowhere… smoke poured from the ground… lightning struck the column… and the corny monster Rawhead Rex clawed its way out from the dirt. It went on a bloody rampage, and was stopped only after a pagan artefact filled with feminine force was removed from a church's altar. "Sagara, you have met your match. You may be the bogeyman; but_ I _am the one they send to _kill _the bogeyman." In the monster film, only a woman could make the weapon work, and Sagara was no woman!

The Whispered pilot had skipped reading 'MacBeth,' when it came up on his required reading list. Lucas had smuggled in a number of foreign comic books and the newest video games, and he had substituted _them_ for the Bard's work. Of the comics, his favorite ones were Batman and Superman. It was no coincidence, how he was now streaking downward in the Kryptonian's iconic pose. The batwings were just a happy bonus. He was also fond of 'Silent Hill: Downpour', and had defeated the Bogeyman many times in that game

"Maybe I can capture you," he thought, moments before impact. "I'll turn you into a Human Pig." He snorted. Once. Twice. "You and Ayame both." He had kept to his lessons, when it was time to read select stories from Chinese history.

Consort Qi, who died in 194 BC, was a consort of Emperor Gaozu, founder of the Han dynasty. She bore Emperor Gaozu a son Liu Ruyi, who was later installed as Prince of Zhao. Gaozu felt that the crown prince Liu Ying,his second son, was an unsuitable heir to his throne. He tried several times, fruitlessly, to replace Liu Ying with Liu Ruyi, but his desire was objected to by Liu Ying's mother Empress Lü Zhi. Because of this, Lü Zhi hated Qi deeply, and as the Empress Dowager later in her life, she had Concubine Qi's limbs chopped off; blinded her by gouging out her eyes; cut off her tongue; cut off her nose; cut off her ears; forced her to drink a potion that made her mute; made her dumb with toxins; locked her in a pigsty; and called her a Human Swine.

"You'll be like two pigs in a poke." To him, that meant something akin to 'two peas in a pod.'

But, he was mistaken. Very much so.

A 'pig in a poke' is a thing that is bought without first being inspected, and thus of unknown authenticity or quality. Starting in the nineteenth century, that idiom was explained as a confidence trick where a farmer would substitute a cat for a suckling pig when bringing it to market. When the buyer discovered the deception, he was said to 'let the cat out of the bag', that is, to learn of something unfortunate prematurely.

The haughty pilot's confidence may or may not have been be misplaced. Time would tell who would be left holding the bag.

"Truth… justice…" Miyamoto braced for impact. "…And the Amalgam way!"

Temeluchus sliced effortlessly through the crown of a cluster of venerable trees.

The impact was epic.


	19. Chapter 19

_Let's get ready to rumblllllll-lllll-llll-lll-ll-le…._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**ELEMENTARY SCHOOL PLAYGROUND AREA**

There are certain questions that have broken brains over the century.

Why are we here? How did something come out of nothing? How could there always have been something?

Stuff like that.

There was another similar question, one that looked to be answered then and there, on the playground of that Elementary school: what happens when an Irresistible Force meets an Immovable Object?

Sweeping in with unbelievable momentum, Lucas II burst through the crown of the trees like a bullet through a bouquet. The motion was so swift and so cleans, that the leaves of the tree didn't rustle a single bit before the wood of the trunk and boughs exploded into small pieces of pulp and bark.

"Al, make sure-" Sousuke had wanted to say: 'Make sure the Lambda Driver is working right,' but didn't have the time. Lucky for him, the A.I. was a step ahead of him. But, all the machine could do was turn the device on and modulate the power input. Sousuke himself was responsible for controlling the power flux, and the form that it took. His unconscious supplied the necessary shape and form.

_ZZZZZZ-ZZZZZ-ZZZZ-ZZZ-ZZ-Z-O-O-O-O-O-O-OI-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-NG!_

There was a sound. But, it was a sound that was felt more than it was heard, if that makes sense. The fields of force at the fists of the flying foe had been shaped into giant extended coils… shock absorbers, if you like. Miyamoto Bokuden was flamboyant, but no fool. He was _not_ hoping for a double KO.

Sousuke for his part had resorted to an old favorite. He had formed a dome of force around himself and Arbalest, one that had served him well on a number of occasions. That hadn't been the optimal choice, however. Each point on the surface had equal resistance, which meant a lot of defensive force had been wasted. He only realized that when he was instantaneously shocked, seeing the sparkling fireflies of the clashing fields being pushed towards him. He should have formed something like a Spartan shield! But he had barely had the chance to visualize the enemy, noticing a blur of orange and little more.

In reality, Sousuke's force shield was not a hemisphere this time, but a true sphere. That meant that is extended down through the asphalt and the soil, along with sewer conduits and other man-made constructs. In that very instant of impact, things gave. No, not because soil is soft. In that moment, like the moment when a suicide jumper falling from a bridge strikes the usually 'soft' water, something giving becomes something with no give. There was another factor that came into play in Sousuke favor. Fifteen meters below the two ASes, a double track tunnel of the Keio Line subway lay beneath Arbalest's feet.

**WHHHH-HHH-HH-U-UUUUU-UUUU-UUU-UUU-UU-U-MMMM-MMM-MM-MP!**

A huge round portion of asphalt shattered and sank at the same moment in time, as the soil and contents beneath it descended fifteen feet down as one. At the center of that forty-foot diameter circle of blacktop… the cracks taking on the shape of a giant spider's web... the ARX-7 was planted in the soil, its feet resting on a bent tangle of subway tracks. Lucas II had rebounded twenty yards off to the side that Sousuke had leaned his machine. He was standing waste deep in the wreckage of the Elementary School's main building.

"I'll be out long before you will, Sagara," Miyamoto said, his voice coming over the speakers inside Arbalest. "It looks like I planted you like a telephone pole. I just need to shake off a roof and a couple of walls." His A.S. began extricating itself from the damaged school building.

"This is what struck us," Al said, having recorded the ghostly image of the enemy's initial strike. "Perhaps, if you could form these on our feet…."

"_What?"_ Sousuke was stunned, literally and figuratively. Damage screens showed minimal injury to all joints in the A.S., and many electrical systems had gone from green to yellow, just one step away from red. Fortunately, the grenade belt had not been damaged, and had not exploded, tearing the ARX-7 in half. **"Oh!"** He feverishly tried to put a thought into action. Springs! But, springs worked by compressing, and then expanding again. His feet were static. Could he create growing columns of force? Could the Lambda Driver _do _something like that? He closed his eyes and tried to formulate the forces. If only Kaname had been there, a part of him thought. She had talked him through his first time, popping his Lambda Driver cherry, so to speak. **"Wait!"** She _was _there, in a sense. Acknowledging that simple fact had the effect of calming her brain and his mind.

"So, finally we meet Sergeant." Mr. Magnesium said, pushing over a wall that had toppled over onto his AS's legs. "The infamous Sousuke Sagara, hero of Hong Kong… slayer of giants… and all around badass." He chuckled. "Look at you now. I can only wonder what it feels like, to be brought so low so fast. You must be desperate." If his adversary wasn't mentally off of his game because of that initial strike, he would need to be frazzled, and he knew just what subject to tap into. "Speaking of which… after this… I will seek out Miss Kaname Chidori… and that beautiful body of hers…." He let that sink in. "An then I will bring _her_ so low and so fast. I'll make her squeal for more, before I snap her neck. And then, I'll probably take her _again!"_

Sousuke's vison went red, in part because of his growing efforts to focus his mind, and in part because of rage. That rage was a godsend, crystallizing his unconscious solutions, giving them precedence over his conscious images. He felt the A.S. pushing up slightly. He had managed to create elevating pillars of force; but, he was wedged in too tightly. He kept pushing harder and harder with his thoughts, biting Kaname's lip in the process, sending small trickles of blood flying from it. Even doing all that, the innate Sagara spirit bobbled to the surface.

"You talk big," Sousuke said, 'his' voice unmistakable feminine. "I doubt that you _are_ big. You are a male model, after all. I suspect… as one of my friends says…." He did not mention Kurz Weber by name. "You are all bun, and no hot dog. _Right?"_ Two can play psychological fisticuffs. Especially if they each have their own set of trigger points. "I would never let you touch me. **Never!"**

"What did you say?" Was the first thing that Miyamoto said, responding first to the insult and its nasty implications. Then, the obvious struck him. He doubted that Sousuke Sagara sounded like a teenage girl, unless he had had _his _hot dog removed. "Who the hell _are_ you?" He flipped a switch, turning on his view screen. He would be able to see the opponent, if he… she?... turned Arbalest's screen on too and established a link.

"You must have looked hard for me all day," Sousuke said, turning on his viewscreen. He let the A.I. Wi-Fi system search out the enemy's address, before stronger connections followed suit. "But I fooled you… by hiding right under your ugly little nose…." He dialed in the visual connection. He could see Miyamoto's face, so he must be able to see 'his.' Kaname's. "Heep big genius. Him brain so big. Him tricked by black hair dye!" Kaname's laugh filled the helmet speakers of the mercenary model. "It's one thing to be a bad model. It's another to be stupid and bad model." There was a pregnant pause. "Wait! My bad! _All_ male models are bad and stupid. Silly me. A smart model would go looking for a better job! I have a sister named Ayame. She's younger than me and lives in the States. _Dumbass!"_

"YOU!" Miyamoto recognized Kaname's Chidori's… the erstwhile Ayame Chiroi's… face. _"YOU_… **YOU**… _**YOU**_… **YOU****!"** The current insults mixed with memories of the earlier ones, and the whole mental morass was swallowed whole by the monster in his head, the psychic creation that had arisen from all of the previous horrors he had faced in his tormented youth. Anger flooding him, he slammed his flat palm hard against a raised button, flipping a back-slung gatling gun over one shoulder, at the same time he had used one of Lucas's hands to swat away a large portion of fractured roof. Instead of continuing to extricate himself and gain an unsurmountable edge, he targeted Arbalest and opened fire.

"Shield holding," Al spoke. "Lambda Driver proficiency at 94 percent and holding." That was just the physical part of things. How long could Sousuke Sagara keep his mental shield up? Like in a fight between boxers, the two opponents would not flail away continuously. They would run out of strength quickly.

Fate does not always swing the same way for all peoples involved. At that moment, just as Sousuke readied another insult, he felt a sharp tremble, and then he was moving upwards. A speeding subway train, sweeping around a long sweeping curve, had run into a wall of soil and rubble, its driver seeing the danger far too late. That impact loosened the confining material briefly, long enough for Sousuke's Hail-Mary attempt to succeed. Scrabbling with the Arbalest's hands upon the broken asphalt, he was able to pull the A.S.'s legs out from their muddy boots. Not a moment too soon! A broken water main had been making the dirt soggy, almost like a quick setting cement.

_Sping sping sping sping spingspingsping_

A number of rounds from the AK-87 gatling gun passed through the wavering shield, striking glancing blows off of the top of the ARX-7's head. Sparks flew off like glowing grasshoppers. Small fragments of metal jumped along with them. Sousuke threw the machine into a series of barrel rolls, barely keeping ahead of the stream of bullets. Stopping, and holding the A.S. up with both arms extended, he aimed and fired both AM-11 12.7mm chain guns. Or at least, he triggered both weapons. One had been damaged and knocked out of action.

"Not good enough!" Mr. Magnesium had Lucas hefted a large section of wall, cinderblocks falling off of the sides and bottom, blocking the well-placed stream of bullets. Finally having fine control of the Lambda Driver again, he flexed his mental muscle much the way that the Hulk would flex his body's, and sent the remaining rubble flying in all directions. Tamon, in his red panda suit, luckily paying close attention, was barely able to jump to one side and avoid being taken out early in the game. The monk from the temple had wandered over to see what the ruckus was all about. Seeing what he saw, he immediately ran back from whence he came, intent on hiding down in the main building's basement.

"But… wait…. _how_…." It just struck Miyamoto. The pilot was using the Lambda Driver. The pilot had the face of Kaname Chidori. _"I get it!_ It must still be you, Sagara! You are employing holograms… a latex mask…. voice changers…_something_…."

"Incorrect," Sousuke replied. "Your intel… Amalagam's intel… is mistaken." He knew this approach made no sense, if someone had a chance to think things through. "I have _always_ been the only pilot. Sergeant Sagara had been my stalking horse. The charade hasn't been that difficult." He fluffed 'his' long lustrous hair, then winced when he tugged on it hard. That showed his opponent there was no mask. "Shit! That hurts!" He knew what to say. "I wasn't wearing a mask in class, when I danced with that Spanish peacock. Or… you know… when we all had you reduced to tears." He made a sniffing sound. "You should be like Derek Zoolander, and decide to be a hermit crab when you retire. Or you could become an abodiginal, or a better eugoogoolizer… you know, someone who speaks at funerals…who gives the eugoogooly."

"**You!"** Mr. Magnesium shook, every fiber of his body resonating.

"How does it feel… knowing that you were ridiculed by so many girls. That you are going to lose to a girl, now?" Sousuke laughed. "Don't worry. I will write a fine eugoogooly for you. You think that you're too cool for school, but I have a newsflash for you Walter Cronkite… you aren't. Just because you have chiseled abs and stunning features doesn't mean that you can't not die in a freak Arm Slave battle." More movie references.

"_**Bitch!"**_ The way that Miyamoto said that, it covered every girl or woman who had dismissed him or taken advantage him since the day he was born. His anger became rage and his rage quickly morphed into fury. Unwittingly, Sousuke had made a big mistake, a grave error. Most people who were eneveloied in raw negative emotions would lose their edge, would become weaker in some crucial way. Not Mr. Magnesium. He was one of those men whose fury brought him tighter control , made hjm take things more seriously, while putting forth even greater effort.

"Sir," the voice of Lucas called out. "Your vital signs are showing significant changes. Your blood pressure is rising. Your heart rate is reaching dangerous speed. Your respiratory rate is markedly elevated. Tachypnea of this level will result in harmful alkalosis. If this continues, you will suffer light-headedness, confusion, peripheral and circumoral paresthesias, cramps due to a change in cerebral blood flow and pH. Carpopedal spasm may hinder your ability to control me."

"I'll show you just what a male model can do!" Ignoring the A.I., Miyamoto finally remembered something. The Groupies should be arriving on scene soon. "A model _and_ his entourage!" He told Lucas the A.I. to target the ARX-7 with the Groupies. Aside from useless machine guns, each had an arm cannon that might cause some damage with a perfect shot. But, more importantly, each carried a large explosive inside, making them a busty limpid mine if the opportunity arose.

Sousuke had his first unimpeded view of the opposing machine. It was clearly a Venom-derivative… yet another suped up version of the venerable Codarl series. The shape was unique, with something about the sweeping curved arms seeming a bit off. There were wing-like structures beneath the arms. There was a large box on the back, flanked by huge metal cylinders. And, very noticeable, there were two curved structures at the forehead, each ending in a sphere. They looked like some kind of bug's antennae.

The two Arm Slaves made a sudden run at one another, running in zig zap paths, closing the distance in a short period of time. Each fired as they looked to get inside of the other's shielding, while their respective Lambda Drivers were idling. Each zigging when they should have zagged, they closed to a point that projectile weapons were no longer effective, and should have brought forth their Anti-tank daggers. Crashing through the remnants of the school, and then pushing one another backwards into adjoining previously intact buildings, they looked like immense gladiators, wrestling at the center of sum vast arena.

"It's like Godzilla versus Mothra," Kantaro Mori said, crouched down behind a garden wall, the green of his costume blending nicely with some overgrown foliage. Lucas did indeed have the shape of a giant moth, given the winglets and the antenna-like structures. "No… not Godzilla… Mechagodzilla." Arbalest clearly had the shape of a huge mechanical.

The two pilots cursed at one another, alternating powerful forearm smashes, punches, and jabs. Each time one reached for a dagger or tried to bring a gun around, the other struck the hand away. Both bided the time to when he could rush backwards, and clear enough room to work, like a three-point shooter in NBA basketball.

Miyamoto was feeling alive. He was punching and kicking Kaname Chidori by having Lucas beat and batter Arbalest. It wasn't strategic, it was cathartic. That didn't mean he had left tactics behind. In a moment, he would change the slugfest into a ballet of death and destruction, where he would hold the edge. And, he would break out one of his special weapons.

That blasted girl wouldn't stand a chance.

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**IN THE LABORATORY**

"**Wow!"**

Popcorn fell from the slack jaws of Dr Necessiter, as he watched the news feed from a helicopter flying about the ruins of an Elementary School whose name he had missed.

"It's just like Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots," Dr Hfuhruhurr claimed, chomping down on popcorn swimming in artificial butter, making his words barely discernible. He was referring to the classic two-player action toy and game designed by Marvin Glass and Associates, which was first manufactured by the Marx toy company in 1964. It features two dueling robot boxers, the Red Rocker and the Blue Bomber, mechanically manipulated by the players. The game is won when one player knocks the head up off of the opponent.

"That's _right!"_ One engineer said. He had played the Game Boy Advance video game, which had introduced more robots. He had always hated one of them, 'The Orange Oppressor,' and had usually favored 'Silver Stretcher,' when he didn't choose 'Yellow Yahoo,' 'Purple Pyro', or 'Brown Bully' just for something different.

"**Knock his block off, Souske!"** That was Anne, shocking Kaname and everyone else within hearing range. No, she had never played with the original game or with the Nintendo version. But, she _was _a big Pixar fan.

Al McWhiggin, the main antagonist in 'Toy Story 2', has a Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots toy playset in his office at Al's Toy Barn, where Slinky Dog asks them if they have seen his friend Sheriff Woody, to which Blue Bomber politely says he hasn't, before defeating Red Rocker. In a deleted scene, Buzz Lightyear threw Zurg's ray gun battery to the Rock 'em Sock 'Em Robots who proceeded to beat up his archenemy. In The Incredibles, the Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots appeared in Mr. Incredible's room. Anne had also seen them in a movie she was lukewarm about, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where they were shown during the Oompa Loompas' musical number about Mike Teavee.

"_**Fucking kill the bastard for fuck's sake!"**_ That brash statement came in an angelic voice of a short and petite technician, whose face would make a cherub jealous.

Everyone shouted out encouragement for Sousuke, or something nasty and negative about his opponent. Everybody but Kaname.

"Oh Sousuke." Kaname hugged 'herself' tightly, eyes glued to the television screen. The view was so much more vivid than in Khanka, where she had viewed things in person, but from a greater distance. "Please win."

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**HEART OF THE WRECKAGE**

"Is that the best you can do, girlie?!" Miyamoto shouted. "A slap fight!" The two had exchanged staggering blows to the head. Each had fired head mounted weaponry until the ammo belts were empty, neither striking telling hits.

Sousuke remained silent, intent on his efforts to cause some degree of surface imperfection, as a target for his own weaponry, or for that of the hidden mascots. With continual striking, something had to give, something had to be shaken loose. But, from whose machine? There was indeed a method to his madness, even though he knew that this kind of fight was nonsensical in the long run, unless one fighter could cause his opponent's drive system to overheat or malfunction, or could transmit enough shock energy into the pilot's cockpit, rendering them unconscious or unable to move quickly enough. Truth to tell, his ears were ringing… he had a throbbing headache… and he felt his hands and forearms growing a tad numb.

He then stunned the other pilot, striking in such unbridled ferocity. He had been holding Arblaest's hand as if it had been holding a halisen. He imagined the the force equivalent of that paper fan for the briefest of moments, and then had then gone all Chidori on the enemy.

"And, don't forget this," Mr. Magnesium continued, stunned, and feeling a tightness in his neck, and feeling beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and stinging his eyes. Blinking at the stinging irritation, he said "All of this destruction is _your_ fault. All of these buildings. All of people's whose lives will be put on hold, because you destroyed their place of work… or study… or worship…." In their deadly imbroglio they had also stepped on a church, and knocked down a wall of a separate small shrine. "But_ that's_ not the worst of it. When I defeat you… and I _will _defeat you here… I will go back to the high school and kill everyone I see. Everyone in the school, and in the surrounding neighborhoods. All because you… as Ayamae… pushed me too far."

"-" Sousuke opened 'his' mouth too reply, but had better discipline than that. Just the same, the accusation struck true. As hardened as he was, the victim of a life few people might have survived, he was not as easily struck by emotional blows. But, that one truly stung. He had done what he had done. There was no changing that. And, at the time, it had seemed a reasonible thing to do, if not something clever or tactically sound. But, he had followed that mantra many times since coming to Jindai, and the results were often something different than he intended. But, Miyamoto had made a miscalculation, too. Sousuke was more worried about preventing future death and destruction than he was about feeling guilt from the damage he had wrought so far.

He reached out with both of Arbalest's hands, grasping the hands of Lucas, intending to throw him prone upon the ground, an easy target. As both machines struggled to a deadlock, another player entered the fray.

Stepping out from behind a large oak tree, Yoshinobu Saitou raised the Javelin launcher to Black Banchou's cephalopod shoulder… sighted a smudged area at the back of the orange A.S.'s neck… pulled the trigger… and watched as the missile flew on its way. He dropped the launcher, and wisely stepped back into concealment. Yes! The smoky trail was not blotted out by an explosion against that large barely visible shield that occasional surrounded the target. The shield was down! This would do good damage! _Squid Power!_

One of Lucas's hands pulled free and swatted the incoming missile the way a man might swat a gnat, an act that took superhuman awareness and timing.

"How?" Sousuke asked himself.

Mr. Magnesium knew the answer of course, having shown little concern for the missile. The antenna-like structures on Lucas's head served multiple purposes. The two of them together, when intact and functioning to their fullest extent, worked better than any radar system ever could. They could instantly pinpoint any moving object within range, tracking trajectory and providing precise temporal calculations. When the situation called for it, the input would give the A.S. a seemingly supernatural ability to judge any projectiles fired at it from a given distance and beyond. Coupled with the A.I.'s sentience, it could also locate targets immediately, and guide fire a mere moment later. Those functions were aided by the circling four-rotor drones, and by a 360 degrees series of cameras embedded in the surface of the sleek orange craft.

The Gatling gun on the rear of Lucas, folded back up, ran along a metal arch that served as a track, and deployed on the other side at a new angle.

_Brrrrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrrt-rrrrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr-rtttttt-ttttt-tttt-ttt-tt-t_

Heavy projectiles steaked across the unrecognizable school grounds and surround. The large oak tree split lengthwise down its entire length, an instant before the trunk was cut apart into two opposing jagged edges. Not as sturdy as the tree, the mascot suit and its operator were dismembered and decapitated in a spray of blood and torn thread.

"**Fuck me!"** Tamon Suzuki said, thinking that no amount of money was worth this. What could _he _do? If he stepped out of cover, would that big fucking orange bastard make a red splotch out of him, too? Should he hide? Should he run? Should he make a suicide charge, hoping the pilot's attention would be elsewhere, now? As it turned out, he had a worse problem.

"Incoming," Kantaro Mori called out. "Metal… fast as fuck…." There was an incredulous pause. "And wearing nighties and school girl outfits!" He felt drops of sweat drop from his armpit, standing uneasy in his Giant Pig suit.

"Lucas," Mr. Magnesium said. "You have autonomy, and can switch it to any girl at any time." In conjunction with heat sensors, he had a rough plot on one view screen that pinpointed the hiding mascots, along with every living being within two city blocks, should he choose to widen the field and put more computing power in that direction. "I prefer to focus on Arbalest. I don't want some bit player to ruin my big debut!"

"**Gloomy!"** That name echoed across the city, as an amplified voice rang forth from the ARX-7's external speakers. **"Everyone!** _Stop the Alastors!"_ He had misidentified the Groupies in the most exact manner, but guessed well enough what they must be, just the same. The use of the name 'Alastor' would have been confusing, had the mascot drivers been in any situation that allowed time for confusion. Bad things were coming, coming fast and furious… leaping, running, and swinging through trees. The name didn't matter. Not one single iota.

"This is impossible!" Soemu Tomioka fired his RPG, the jolt upon firing sending his large metal neck bell ringing. The warhead was not guided. This was like trying to hit a bullet with another bullet, standing on a rocking horse in the middle of a downpour! This would require the dumbest of dumb luck! He watched in abject awe and horror, as a pigtailed robot wearing a feather boa did a sideways twist around the incoming missile, and even managed to tap a fin with one finger, as if it had a mischievous side. The missile went tumbling and struck an undamaged building next to the school. A few seconds later, the Groupie opened fire with a head-mounted mini-gun and perforated the Giant Fashionable Cat suit and its occupant over every square inch of fabric and flesh.

"**Not me!"** Tamon threw away his weapon and began running away from the battle.

Sousuke charged Arblaest at Lucas abruptly, dagger in hand. Al had made a conjecture: perhaps those antenna had something to do with the enemy machine's ability to avoid gun shots. He had already run the OTO Melata 'Boxer' 57mm scattershot down to a half load. If he sliced one or both off, that might make this a more conventional encounter for him.

"__Olé."__ Feeling flippant, Miyamoto held one arm out in a way that caused the winglet to flutter like a bull-fighter's cape, nimbly dancing away as Sousuke ran past. Gatling gun being used to send fire towards dodging mascots, he managed to slice a gash in Arbalest's side with a dagger as it stepped past Lucas. **"Toro! Toro!"** He bowed to the returning ARX-7, and would have tipped his hat to the crowed, if he hah had a hat, and if there was a crowd. He knew he shouldn't waste a moment of vigilance or energy, playing games; but, he couldn't help himself. It was the entertainer in him. Those aspects had been flash-welded to his soul.

"**Bullshit!"** Sousuke swore himself, no pun intended. He was seeing red, just the same. Taking careful aim, he discharged the contents of his wrist mounted thermobaric weapon. A number of projectiles flew in a tight swarm, all but two missing. Those two struck the two winglets, immediately setting them ablaze, even though the materials were not very flammable. "I hope that fucks_ something_ up!" Smoke. Sheer heat. Concussive force. He hoped something might blur a sensor or cause a joint to cease up. No such luck. The orange A.S. was soon wing-free and fire-free when the A.I. detonated the explosive bolts that attached wings to craft.

"_Mother!"_ Tamon shouted. "Whoever you might have been." He was running in sheer panic, almost tripping over his floppy feet. "Help your poor boy now!" Two Groupies had taken up chase. One was firing the minigun, while the other had flipped its metal fist down, exposing a recoilless rifle.

Before either Groupie could unleash hell, a pink form flashed past them. One robot's head fell off, neck cut clean through. Its gun fired blindly, raining down a hail of bullets on a glass-covered veranda at a fancy restaurant, miles away. The second robot fell and somersaulted awkwardly akimbo, its arm weapon firing and striking a bus two blocks over. A robotic leg was laying yards away. As it leveraged itself up on its two intact arms, a set of scythe-like claws ran up its back. The internal bomb exploded, causing a chrysanthemum shaped cloud of flying shrapnel and a red ball of flower-shaped fire, but the powered mascot had already sped out of range.

"**Galaxy Quest!"** Hiroshi said, operating his radio output with his tongue. He hoped that the girl piloting the big white A.S. had seen that movie and would understand his clue. He had caught the attention of Lucas, and therefore the targeting of the remaining Groupies. They were following on his tail in a 'V' shape, like migrating birds. "I'm towing mines." He was also carrying a giant red panda.

There was a scene in that Sci-Fi spoof starring Tim Allen where the reptilian enemy leader Roth'h'ar Sarris was talking down to the hero, Jason Neswmith:

_Sarris: Let me remind you, sonny: I am a general. If you are counting on me to blink, then you are making a deadly mistake._

_Jason Nesmith: Well, let me tell you something, Sarris! It doesn't take a great actor to recognize a bad one. You're sweating!_

_Gwen DeMarco: Armor almost gone, Jason!_

_Sarris: You fool! You fail to realize that with your armor gone, my ship will tear through yours like tissue paper!_

_Jason Nesmith: And what you fail to realize is my ship is dragging mines!_

The spaceship, the Protector, had a large number of space mines in tow, held by the attractive forces inherent in those deadly devices. Those mines struck the alien general's ship, blowing it to kingdom come, while not, unfortunately, killing Sarris.

"OH NO!" Miyamoto had seen that movie once, waiting in the common room at one modelling show. _"__TURN!_ _**TURN!" **_He was calling out to the heavens and Fate as much as he was speaking to Lucas and the oncoming Groupies. He moved the control levers with such force that he bruised both palms. He was too late.

"Good work!" Sousuke called out. He was impressed by Hiroshi's thinking and actions. He was now like a waiting duck hunter, with one motherfucking _big_ shotgun.

**BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM BHAM **

"My girls!" Mr. Magnesium spat in anger, after the look of shock left his face. That had happened so fucking fast! But then again, in a fight like this, it only seemed like an eternity. The total conflict had barely lasted three minutes so far. Two Groupies survived the attack ands veered off at his command, switched to Hunter-Killer mode, searching for living targets.

"Put me the fuck down, fleabag!" Tamon cursed. Gloomy toted him along, before tossing him like a sack of trash. He ended nose down and ass up, just inches away from his discarded RPG30. "Fine!" There was no coincidence in his landing site. He contemplated the weapon.

In moves that shocked and delighted various onlookers, in person or on television, the orange machine made a series of moves under fire that would be difficult for a limber human body. A number of cartwheels were followed by an impossibly high arabesque, that followed by a spry assemble. The flying développé it evolved into, prompted a heavy leg drop that brought Arbalest to its knees. Two large curved blades extended out over the back of Lucas's hands, looking like hook-knifes that might be used to carved up a side of beef or take out an opponent in a no-holds-barred knife fight. He sank a tip of each blade into his rising opponent's shoulders, and pulled it towards Lucas a tight clutch. There was a good reason for that latter move. A panel had flipped open, exposing a long extruding monomolecular cutter on the A.S.'s frontal thorax.

"**Push away, Al!"** Sousuke felt a jolt of fear course through Kaname's body. He was in no mood to star in a version of the 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre!' He was able to free one hook blade, and reached down to draw his own Cutter.

Sparks flew off of both machines.

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**TOKYO METROPOLITAN POLICE HOLDING CELLS**

"I preferred the moth-shape," Mr. Ciocio said, held in a straight-jacket in one jail cell. He, like the other detainees, were watching a television set mounted on the wall over the guard's desk. Naturally, he would feel that way. The big orange A.S. now looked more like a man pretending to be a beetle**. **_ "C'est la vie."_

"_Ohhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_ In a separate cell, Zenji Oonuki , Jindai janitor, almost popped an aneurysm, watching the battle scene. Two giant chainsaws! He had died and gone to Heaven… or maybe Hell with TV privileges. "Cut! _You gotta cut!_ _**Cutttt-ttt-tt-t!"**_

"I've got to join up!" In yet another cell, Wakana watched, enraptured. She had stopped drawing a rendition of Kaname Chidori on the padded walls. The stick figure looked odd, seeing that red blood did a poor job of representing blue hair. "I want my phone call!" She would call a recruiter, the other cell occupants surmised. No one was sure whether she would want to join the good guys or the bad guys. Of course, there _were_ no recruiters for Mithril or Amalgam. But that wasn't foremost in her mind at that moment. The fight made her excited, and the excitement made her hungry. She hoped that Tokyo Pizza would deliver to her location.

"Settle down you apes!" The guard threatened to change the channel, to shut up the noisy group of detainees. There was no way in hell that he would do _that._

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**ERSTWHILE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL GROUNDS**

Neither A.S. could create severe damage with their Cutters, but not for lack of effort.

"No," I was wrong," Kantaro said. "That's not Mothra. That's Gigan."

Lucas did bear some resemblance to that evil alien robot, with the hook-knives mimicking the monsters' claws… with the deadly blade in the belly… and with what seemed to look like a single glowing red eye in the center of its forehead from a distance.

"What's next," the mascot harrumphed. "Jet Jaguar?" That giant robot had battled Megalaon, but had also knocked Gigan from the air at one point, before being given a true ass-whoopin by the two monsters together, his fate seemingly sealed before Godzilla showed up to turn the tide in 'Godzilla Vs. Megalon.'

Souske had been in numerous A.S. battles, sometimes in the better machine, and most often the better pilot. His natural instincts and feral cunning had seen him through on many such occasion. Now and again, luck had been the deciding factor, or some foolish mistake by an enemy who should have known better, or who had been pushed past some lesser level of mental or physical endurance. But, he had never found himself in a match like this one before. In part, it might be due to the fact that his normal edge was missing. Hesitation here and there had likely cost him a kill, or at least a deeply wounding blow. On the other hand, there had been times where an unexpected intuitive feeling had moved him just out of harm's way, or had taught him a characteristic of his foe that he might have missed. Was this the Kaname Effect? Was it the result of a man's mind being in a woman's brain?

Miyamoto on the other hand had not been in nearly as many battles. Almost every victory he had came because of a better machine… greater will… or the benefits that he derived as a Whispered, having a stronger and multi-leveled connection with his A.I. Being 'gifted' had also provided him some advanced fighting tactics and strategic ploys, that seemed to be beamed inside his head along with the data and schematics that gave rise to his areas of expertise. Arbalest was cut from a different cloth, and Kaname Chidori was no mean opponent. He was growing more frustrated by the moment, and that frustration kept the fuel of his anger glowing. Would there come a time when his fury would grow too hot? Would his boiling blood steam up in a figurative way, turning into a boiling steam that blurred or blinded his mind's eye?

"When will you learn?!" Mr. Magnesium laughed, as he twisted and avoided shot from the 57mm, after Sousuke had forced his weapon through the Lambda Driver shield before firing, a move that was as natural as breathing for him now. "Let me show you something that _I_ have learned." Ballet again. He was adept at taking those human movements and applying them to piloting, no mean feet when it came to a machine with mechanical muscle fibers and a much different center of gravity. "Échappé," he said. He made an escape with a slipping movement, starting in a closed position… the so-called fifth position… with Lucas's feet, and then sliding both feet out equally into the fourth position. "Penché." That move in his own body takes a lot of strength, flexibility, and many years of practice to become good at. This was the first time he had tried in in an A.S. The lifting leg in that extreme arabesque struck Arbalest hard in the chin." He paid no attention to the pink shadow that darted this way and that throughout the wreckage of the graveyard they had made their way into. "Temps levé." That hop from one foot to the other raised in any position was done solely as a mocking move, as the ARX-7 stumbled backwards, fighting for balance.

"If I can't destroy those targets," Sousuke told himself, referencing those deceptively frail looking antenna, which forever seemed to be just out of his grasp, "I have to find another method." Every gun shot seemed to be dodged with ease. The knifee strikes came much closer, but the orange A.S.'s agility always moved it out of harm's way. That latter was a function of pilot reflexes and machine speed. It may not have anything to do with the apparent heightened perception! "I have to go against training." By that, he meant training he had as a fighter, man against man, flesh body against flesh body. While Clouseau had shown him many close in fighting techniques for Arm Slaves, often to his chagrin, they were arm strikes and pusheds, bits of geometrical or timing magic. "It's an obvious truth. Don't bring a knife to a gun fight."

But, _was_ it? Sure, in street situations and on a battlefield, A knife… or a sword, and axe, a mace, or a pole arm… didn't match up well against a firearm or a bow and arrow. Or any kind of missile weapon for that matter. True, there were rare situations where that wasn't true. For example, a group of British soldiers in Lebanon armed with Belgian FN FALs had matched up with attackers armed with curved swords. As shown in the Lindybeige videos that Sousuke had bought at an arms dealer's flea market in Tripoli, the attackers took advantage of the Brit's unwillingness to mow down civilians, and had gotten inside the length of their gun barrels to chilling effect. And, naturally, there had been case throughout history where men had taken swords or knives out of seclusion to strike unsuspecting and unprepared gunmen; but, that was neither here nor there.

What could he construct with the Lambda Driver, without any practice, and without taking away his shielding when such a shield might mean the difference between life and death? A bayonet? He could har an old instructor snickering in his mind. Bayonet combat, in actuality, had been a bad joke since the time of Theodore Roosevelt! A sword? Point to fact, swords have never really been that good of a weapon, either. They were great when used in melee combat against other swords, or weapons with a similar reach. But a slashing movement would be easy to read and even easier to dodge. If only he could create a bow and arrows! But, something like _that _was impossible, right?!

A spear.

It would have to be a spear.

He didn't need a fancier polearm, as he was not going to be able to slash his foe with projected force, or be able to hook a leg and trip him. He might be able to puncture something, or pin his enemy to some standing structure. At the vary least, the quick movements and darting strikes would keep the enemy occupied. Well, that was the plan, anyway. The question hung heavy.

_Could he create such a weapon?_

"**Let's do this, Al!"** Sousuke poured all of his concentration into it. This was a big gamble; but, it could have a huge payoff. _"Thinner!" _It was like he was holding a trimmed tree trunk. "Thinner thinner thinner." Now, it was more like a telephone bole with a pointed end. "Too long!" He wanted a spear, not a lance.

"I see what you are doing," Miyamoto cried out. His system was set up so as to be able to map out an opponent's force lines, even when the ghostly outlines were no longer visible. "You're trying to grow a cock. You must want to fuck me up the ass. Such a naughty minx." He chuckled. "Is _that_ the secret of the Universe? Does every little girl really wish she were a man? Is that why they punish us the way they do." His humor turned to distaste. "Or is it just you? Are you truly a boy trapped in a girl's body? A foolish boy who's a bit too light in the loafers?" He stopped his acrobatics, and struck a misogynistic pose in his machine. "Girls don't get to fuck. They are only meant to _**be**_ fucked." He was angry now. "Let me show you how it's done!" Perhaps this would embarrass a shy virgin, or shame a promiscuous slut.

"**Gah!"** Tamon said. "A man can't un-see something like _that._ You sick perverted motherfucker!" As he watched, Lucas extended a sharp pulsing appendage from its midsection. Not long or maneuverable, it was very sharp, conjured down to a molecule or two in thickness at the business end.

"_Shit!"_ Sousuke's efforts with the spear vanished into thin air. He had to retreat fast, not wanting to see what that machine force manhood could do. It was aimed directly between his eyes at that moment. Noting his location, he changed his escape route, an idea coming to mind. He had forgotten about something. He pretended to stumble over the broken graveyard wall, and slid sideways in an unbalanced but deliberate fashion.

"Spread your legs, Miss Chidori!" Miyamoto prepared to lunge. He was within the radius of the ARX-7s habitual field and doubted that the girl could create a force-skin around the machine. He grinned an evil grin, slurring those words in his mind. A foreskin. "We can share a cigarette when I'm done with you." His good cheer evaporated in an instant. He had been led to a certain spot. Lucas stood next to one of the concealed Claymore-like explosives, one which held countless stainless steel ball bearings and caltrop-shaped flechettes.

"It's the fortunes of war," Sousuke said, to himself, not over the com-link. Part of his mind was acting like a concience he rarely had in battle. Killing the enemy and finishing the mission always took first through tenth place on his list of the ten most important things. But now, close to that Nursery, and not a safe distance from a growing ring of first responders and military that were pgathering in increasing numbers just blocks away, he wondered if he should set-off that device. **"Now!"**

_Whhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-hzzzzz-zzzz-zzz-zz-z Shing shing shing shing shing shing shing._

Little balls of death flew about the area, shredding trees and shrubs, shattering windows, punching deep holes in bricks and rock, and causing a strange rain of metal over each and every block within a half-mile radius.

"**Damn it!"** Miyamoto shouted, expecting the worst.

There was no way that Lucas should have been able to dodge that! But, the A.I. was good. _Real _good. With the Lambda Driver on idle, always working at the lowest level in Mr. Magnesium's mind, the A.I. could prompt responses from its pilot through electrical contacts, thoughts which in turn could be formed into the simplest of shapes. In this case, a simple flat sheet of force. Some projectiles got through and did damage. Most of the projectiles were deflected upward, just missing the A.S. head.

"And damn _you_, you bitch!" Miyamoto said. Lucas was damaged, but not severely. The time for games was over. He had almost learned a fatal lesson, there. From now on, he would keep a good distance, and _he_ would choose the terrain.

Now that he had exhausted much of his opponent's ammunition… Lucas had been keeping an exact count, and the ammo load of the OTO Melara was well known… Mr. Magnesium was certain that his true tricks would give him an unsurmountable edge.

"Hah hah!" He said in glee. "We'll call this David and _Gal_-iath!"

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**BRIDGE OF TUATHA DA DANAAN**

"Sergeant Sagara, do you read me." It was Tessa's voice.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said in Kaname's voice. "Sagara here. I have little opportunity to speak. The combat is fierce and moment to moment."

"Understood, Seragenast," Tessa said, sitting in her command chair, and bound to military etiquette. "Then listen and don't focus on replies."

"Roger that," Sousuke answered, intending that to be his last response in the verbal exchange.

"No doubt, given the nature of battle, we could not launch anyone now and have them reach you in time," Tessa noted. "But, this is to inform you that should the conflict become protracted, no human assets will be forthcoming. The remainder of the SRT personnel have been sent to hotspots in Eastern China and the Phillipines."

Another voice could be heard in the background. It was Commander Mardukas, who sternly said "Launch Standard 7M missiles. Knock those targets out of the sky, gentlemen and lady." It sounded as if the TDD-1 was under fire.

"The cruise missiles that were sent to Tokyo have gone off radar," Tedssa continued. "We have lost all contact with them. Apparently they were shot down by jet-fighter style drones, a number of which have done a bloodhound's work, and traced Arbalest's missle back to us. We were forced to leave the surface, and are attempting to remove the threat before they can be retrieved, or before they are redirected to attack another friendly target."

"There was no time to launch F35s," Commander Mardukas said in the background for Sousuke's edification. "There may be more drones available to the foe. It is possible that some could be configured for ground attack. Keep a sharp eye out, Sergeant."

Sousuke swallowed hard, dodging a series of elaborate attacks. He hoped that the enemy hadn't planned _that _far in advance. He had the feeling that he would escape by a hair's breadth today, if he escaped at all.

"Good luck, Sousuke," Tessa snuck in, before breaking contact.

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**HEART OF THE WRECKAGE**

Sousuke felt Kaname's body sweating in ways that his never did.

"If at first you don't succeed, Al," he said.

"Try try again," Al replied. "Am I correct?"

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied. About to order the A.I. to reform and fine tune the force spear, he watched as the orange A.S. twisted its right arm palm outward. The forearm opened up by means of two lengthwise covers, exposing a glowing set of filaments. Those elongated wires swung downward, and began to crackle with energy. At the same time, the right antenna began pulsating with orange and yellow light.

"Giants are not what we think they are," Mr. Magnesium's voice said over the com-link. "The same qualities that appear to give them strength are often the sources of great weakness." He viewed Kaname Chidori as a good close-in fighter, but not so much as a long-range attacker. "My pastor on a little island… a real maestro with a butterfly knife… once told me 'If God's will is in your little stones, they will surely bring down giant Goliaths... but you have to make the throw!"

"You finally admit it!" Sousuke taunted the emotionally labile pilot. "You have little stones. No wonder you chose to be a model!" Those A.S. wires were now glowing brighter, and were surrounded by Lambda Driver force. What was the enemy doing?

"Laugh while you can," Miyamoto- said, biting off his words. "Arbalest is a giant in the minds of many fighters, whomever its pilot might be. I may not be a good Christian, but I love a great Bible story just the same." He pushed a control lever. That action cased a ball of light to form on the glowing antenna. The ball grew much larger and nebulous, then shrank down immediately thereafter, denser and spinning, throwing off glimmering flecks of light. The ball detached, falling downward. In a deft move, the pilot caught the ball in a cradle of force, which now looked to be part of a giant sling.

"**MOVE!"** Sousuke had the ARX-7 backpedaling as fast as possible. If the weapon did not have some former of homing capacity, the greater the gap between machines, the greater the chance of a miss. "Keep a close watch on that ball of light, pal. Judge the trajectory as if our life depends on it!" He brought up his Lambda Driver shield again, having no idea if it could stop the figurative 'stone.'

A sling is a projectile weapon typically used to throw a blunt projectile such as a stone, clay, or lead 'sling-bullet'. That type of simple device has a small cradle or pouch in the middle of two lengths of cord. The sling stone is placed in the pouch. The middle finger or thumb is placed through a loop on the end of one cord, and a tab at the end of the other cord is placed between the thumb and forefinger. The sling is swung in an arc, and the tab released at a precise moment. This frees the projectile to fly to the target. The sling essentially works by extending the length of a human arm, thus allowing stones to be thrown much farther than they could be by hand.

Slings are inexpensive and easy to build. They have historically been used for hunting game and in combat. Film exists of Spanish Civil War combatants using slings to throw grenades over buildings into enemy positions on the opposite street. Today the sling is of interest as a wilderness survival tool and an improvised weapon.

History buffs will know that the sling is mentioned by Homer and by other Greek authors. Xenophon in his history of the retreat of the Ten Thousand, circa 401 BC, relates that the Greeks suffered severely from the slingers in the army of Artaxerxes II of Persia, while they themselves had neither cavalry nor slingers, and were unable to reach the enemy with their arrows and javelins. This deficiency was later rectified when a company of two hundred Rhodians, who understood the use of leaden sling-bullets, was formed. They were able, says Xenophon, to project their missiles twice as far as the Persian slingers, who used large stones.

The Bible provides a famous slinger account, the battle between David and Goliath from the First Book of Samuel 17:34–36, probably written in the 7th or 6th century BC, describing events having occurred around the 10th century BC. The sling, easily produced, was the weapon of choice for shepherds fending off animals. Due to this, the sling was a commonly used weapon by the Israelite militia. Goliath was a tall, well equipped and experienced warrior. In the Biblical account, the shepherd David convinces Saul to let him fight Goliath on behalf of the Israelites. Unarmored and equipped only with a sling, five smooth rocks, and his staff, David defeated the champion Goliath with a well-aimed shot to the head.

Sousuke felt Kaname's gut clench, as 'he' watched Lucas swing the glowing ball in the giant sling. The spinning and spitting projectile launched out impossible fast, leaving a trail of afterimages in its wake.

"Shield at 80 percent," Al called out. On one view panel, the extent and intensity of the shield was depicted by beadlike small green lights. The upper front part was missing, where the force ball had glanced off. "We had dissolution, not penetration."

"Shift the shielding , fast. Reform the intact shield!" That was more a command to himself than the A.I., since the formation of the barrier came from his imagination and the Lambda Driver's subsequent action. This was the wisest choice for now. The shield would be weaker, but complete. His other choice would be to maintain strength and leave the hole in place, but rotate the blank space to the rear of Arbalest. There was a benefit to maintaining an ongoing thought. Any completely new image could fail, and any failure could prompt another one, if his confidence faltered.

"That worked better than I hoped," Mr. Magnesium crowed. "Let's see what happens when I use a stronger bullet." He repeated the procedure, and Lucas created a smaller but denser ball, one that gave off blinding rays of light, like something from a holy engraving. "Fly!" He faked a release, aiming at the ARX-7s head. Instead, he snapped off a low toss.

"**UP!"** Sousuke had the A.S. jump. The ball of force passed completely through the front portion of the shielding, and then ricocheted inside, _"SHIT!"_ When the ARX-7's feet hit the ground, he had to do a quick-step, avoiding the ball as it phased out of being. The hole was no longer visible. He realized for the first time, the fact that his shield was spherical now, not hemispherical as it had been in the past. For some reason, he had pictured things differently today. His thinking had been lax. Sloppy. Could he blame that on Kaname? There was no time to think that way. Limiting things to a hemisphere not only maintained the same amount of power, but also doubled the thickness.

"Shield at 65 percent" Al reported.

Sousuke winced. That was a big drop! Was it due to the machine, or him? Or both?

"Let's see," Miyamoto mused, having fun. "What if I do this?" Closing the distance abruptly, threw an even stronger ball of energy, bouncing it purposely off of the ground. It rose up at an attack angle that forced his opponent to crouch low to avoid being struck. Slowly growing weaker as it traveled, the ball still obliterated a gasoline station when it struck ground somehwere out of sight. The resultant explosion shook the houses in an affluent development. Babies cried for miles around. "Hurry!" All the demands in the world would not make another ball form faster than usual.

"What's happening Al?" Sousuke looked at the panel with concern. All of the green lights highlighting the shape of the Lambda Driver field were dark now.

"Lambda Driver shut down," the A.I. replied. "It was automatic, to avoid overload. Restarting now."

"Make it fast, pal!" Sousuke turned and had the A.S. run as quickly as possible, zigging and zagging at different distances. The rear-view monitor was small in size and hence had small resolution. Things were hairy, to say the least.

"Let's try this game," Miyamoto said, releasing the sling ball just above the ground. "Bowling for Dollars." His parents would have had the human Lucas killed three times over before his disappearance, if they had ever known that he had allowed their vestigial son to watch reruns of that inane show. The spinning ball, densest yet, howled as it sped along, skipping along the surface in long arcs, leaving smoking furrows where it touched. It barely missed its target, and began rolling, breaking the dirt and asphalt down into atoms, like a real-life chainsaw-toothed Langolier from a Steven King novella or TV miniseries. Its path led straight to the children's Nursery. "And to improve my chances…."

He directed the Groupies to enter the battle again. He sent them to attach themselves magnetically to Arbalest's legs, to cripple the A.S. with explosions, or at least bring it down to the ground, or to one knee, where it would be less able to dodge the next force bullet.

In the American Civil War, a solid shot cannonball carried with it considerable momentum. There was a famous anecdote, reportedly from Antietam, where an officer saw a cannonball rolling across the ground, and put his foot out to stop it. It took off his leg. The 'Mythbuster's' TV show learned that same principle recently. The crew tried to film the shooting of a homemade cannon at a target containing water-filled barrels at a shooting range. They missed the water-filled barrels. The cannon ball then flew through a concrete wall, seven hundred yards into a suburban neighborhood where it bounced on the sidewalk… through the front door of a house… bounced up the stairs… and then went through and through a bedroom… exiting the stucco wall… crossed a six-lane highway… took several tiles off a roof as it bounced off it… before crashing into the window and dashboard of a mini-van… coming to a rest on the floorboards.

Marx once said that history repeats itself, 'the first as tragedy, then as farce.' Today, the repeat was still a tragedy, just the same, though some might see it as farce. A more famous quote from writer and philosopher George Santayana in its original form read: 'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.' Whether some might think him altruistic, or stupid beyond words, the large green pig struck out with his leg, intending to change the course of the monstrous missile. The leg disappeared, along with half of Kantaro's body.

The attempted sacrifice had been unnecessary. After the ball crashed through a small food truck, and caused an impossibly smooth groove in the adjacent highway, it fizzled out of existence a mere six inches from the Nursery door.

"Sergeant, I am detecting movement." Al plotted two fast moving tracks on the screen. "Lambda Driver function is back, but intermittennt. Shield is still down."

"It must be some of those robots!" Sousuke correctly deduced that they must be carrying explosives, or some kind of miniaturized EMP devices. Either possibility could prove devastating and disastrous at this point in the battle. They were moving much quicker than he and the ARX-7 could. "A little help!" Gloomy bear and Tamon were nowhere in the vicinity. A solution sprang into his mind. He had always been good at innovations of a military sort. "God helps those who help themselves." Neither Christian nor Muslim, he still saw a truth in that claim. He fired the A.S. right-sided wire-gun. Not at either of the targets, but straight out. He then swung it to the side as a whip, at great velocity. It struck one Groupie, and soon thereafter, the next. Both detonated, destroying the wire; but Arbalest had been left unharmed.

"**Watch out!"** That was Hiroshi, having synched Gloomy's com-link with the ARX-7s.

"_Right!"_ Sousuke's word was to himself, not to Gloomy Bear's pilot. He jumped right. As luck would have it, Mr. Magnesium's shot passed by him, just to the left. The metal plate on that side of Arbalest warped in and out, but maintained integrity. Barely. It seems that even a close call could do damage. That shot had missed by ten feet. "We really need shielding, pal. We can't keep up like this!" He straightened the running A.S., which was listing to the right. If he ran forward, he would be on a busy highway. If he changed directions significantly, he would provide a slow broadside target until he built up running speed again.

As he watched Arbalest pivot, Miyamoto sent another ball down course. Just as he released the projectile, the crumbling wall he put one of Lucas's feet on crumbled into component bricks. He pulled the shot. Another lost opportunity. **"Fuck!"** He could not keep this up forever. Rivulets of sweat poured down his face. Lambda Driver functioning had begun to fluctuate significantly. He had to move in closer. For what seemed a long time, but was less than a minute in duration, he piloted this way and that, trying to run his quarry down.

Ready to sling another bullet, he slid to a stop in the graveyard, well within view of those who looked down the path between the white-washed walls.

Little did he realize his mistake.

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**TEMPLE GROUNDS**

Arbalest kept on the move, leaping over walls, unable to avoid trampling grave markers by the dozens.

"I am certain that Mithril will pay to have them rebuilt," Sousuke said, jarred this way and that as he piloted the fleeing A.S. This action got his goat. It made him feel like a poor soldier. It made him feel as if Death must be nipping at his heals. There could well be a marker with his name on it, after his remains were given burial at sea. That is, if anything remained. "I must not think that way."

He thought back to a movie he had seen, one that he had liked a great deal. 'The Naked Prey.' That 1965 adventure film starring Cornel Wilde, who also served as director and producer, was set in the South African veldt, and as such was only loosely based on the experiences of explorer John Colter, who was pursued by Blackfoot warriors through frontier Wyoming in 1809.

Wilde, whose character is never named, played a professional safari guide leading two white men and their troupe on an elephant hunt in African during the colonial era. When the group intrudes on a local tribe's territory, a number of natives accosted them, expecting to be bought off with gifts. Although the guide advises his client to be courteous, the client refuses to offer anything and insults the natives, sending them away empty-handed. Later, the tribe returns en masse, captures the entire party, and puts the captives to death, using various cruel and unusual methods. One man is covered in clay and roasted alive on a spit; another is tarred, feathered, and trussed, then chased and killed by all the women. The man who insulted the tribesmen is trapped in a ring of fire with a poisonous snake.

Wilde's character is spared until the last. He is stripped naked and then an arrow is fired into the air. Wilde's character then runs, and once he passed the arrow he was chased by one tribesman who must reach the arrow before the next tribesman can join in the hunt. His pursuer throws a spear at him and misses, which he uses to kill his pursuer and take his supplies. Wilde's character then flees, and a multi-day chase ensues. One by one, the pursuers fall; either killed by the guide, or taken out of the chase by wild animals. He barely reaches a colonial fort just seconds ahead of his pursuers. As he reaches safety, the man turned and exchanged a salute with pursuer's leader.

"Help can come from unexpected sources," Sousuke told himself. He wondered if the enemy must be suffering instability issues, or was shepherding energy. There hadn't been a shot for some time now. The enemy was moving to shut off escape routes, but not attacking.

"Sergeant," Al said. "Query?"

"Make it quick," Sousuke snapped, feeling a bit churlish. He remembered Al saying that he could multi-task. Then again, he himself was not always at his best when he tried to do more than one thing at a time.

"In Hong Kong, you said that our problem had been fixed." Al stated that more as a latent question, than as a statement of fact.

"Yes." Souuske replied, wondering what the A.I. was mulling in its miraculous metal mind. "And it still is."

"We defeated five enemies in short succession, then." Al remembered. "We face only one this time, but it seems we are on the verge of defeat."

"-" Sousuke opend 'his' mouth to deny that; but, he didn't want to prolong the conversation any longer than necessary.

"Were you overconfident today?" The A.I. asked. "Did we lose a chance at victory, earlier? The overconfidence effect is a well-established bias in which a person's subjective confidence in his or her judgements is reliably greater than the objective accuracy of those judgements, especially when confidence is relatively high. Overconfidence is one example of a miscalibration of subjective probabilities."

"-" Sousuke bit back a reply, almost as if the machine were chiding him, the way a mother might lecture her small child. He took a deep breath and let it out. Al was merely learning again.

"In effect," Al continued. "Humans are often more sure that they are correct than they deserve to be. Overconfidence has been called the most 'pervasive and potentially catastrophic' of all the cognitive biases to which human beings fall victim. It is to blame for many wars…_ and_ many defeats."

"Then, if you think humans are falliable," Sousuke said. "What do _you _think of our situation." Might the A.I. shine a novel light on things? Could it have taken note of enemy trends that might provide a much needed opportunity?

"I think we are getting our asses kicked," Al said.

"_Mrpfl."_ Sousuke had to stiffle a laugh, even though the situation they were in was no laughing matter.

"Sergeant, is your brain broken?" Al was mystified by laughter at a time like that. "Why are you laughing. That was not a joke."

"I will explain later, pal." Sousuke was still grinning. He wondered who had taught the A.I. that phrase. Mao? Weber? Clouseau? Or had he sourced something on the internet? He stopped chuckling. Th ghost of an idea danced about his synapses. _Was_ his brain broken? Well, _was_ it? He had neglected to use some of the traps he had planned for. He was running with a sense of survival in mind, rather than to set up the next attack. He was working to prolong things, when the nature of the Lambda Driver often had him taking calculated risks, to shorten the time of battle as much as possible. Sometimes it felt like he was listening, when he should be speaking, so to speak. He sometimes felt as if he was hearing echoes in a cave. Was that a vestige of the Whispered ability left behind? It almost felt as if there was another female presence in his mind, one that was not Kaname. That wasn't a man's so-called feminine side, was it? If it was, why did his seem to have a bit of a Russian accent? Because he was first raised in a KGB-run school?

"I hope I have not doomed us to failure," Al said. "Overconfidence can be beneficial to individual self-esteem, and can give an individual the will to succeed in their desired goal. As I understand it, just believing in oneself may give one the will to take one's endeavors further than those who do not."

"That is good advice," Sousuke remarked. "Belief, that is. The question is, who am I?" He frowned, eyeing a readout that would show return of Lambda Driver stability. Not yet. No sign of improvement. **"Got to move the other way!" **He had inadvertently moved Arbalest between tall trees, and had to pull up short and change direction. If a rolling force ball came now, it could wipe him and the trees into nonexistence, like a game of deadly ten pins.

Mr. Magnesium had done a clever job of moving his piece along the chess board. Sousuke had to focus more of his thinking in driving the A.S., rather than leaving things in mental cruise control, as it was. He had given Al some autonomy in route selection, too. Al's external cameras were better at assessing the safety of the ground he ran on; but, Sousuke's mind was better fit for asymmetrical thinking and unpredictability.

"The same qualities that appear to give individuals strength are often the sources of great weakness," Sousuke said. "The opposite is true, as well. Up until now, I have been worried about being in a girl's brain. I've wondered if any of Kaname Chidori remained there, too. I feared that either of those would be a weakness itself, or worse when combined. I worried that those things might be a reason that we would end up defeated. What if I had that backwards?" He tossed his hair, and then wondered why the hell he did that.

"Sergeant?" Al asked.

"Despite what I read in an article in The Atlantic-" That had been one of the magazines he had borrowed from Kaname's apartment. The article had been 'Are Male and Female Brains Biologically Different', by Taylor Lorzenz, and had noted that pop neuroscience has long been fascinated with uncovering secret biological differences between male and female brains, and that the question of whether men and women have innately different brains rarely fails to get people riled up. The author reported that just last year a Google engineer had caused an uproar after publishing a manifesto detailing the various ways women were biologically different from men. But, the author of the article wrote that while some people say men are from Mars and women are from Venus, the brain is a unisex organ. She blamed academia and the media in part for the cycle that leads to the ongoing argument over biological brain differences, because most scholars know that any small statistical difference between men and women will make headlines. Academics, desperate for funding and attention, often focus studies on gender disparities because 'if you go back to data, analyze it for sex, and if you find a difference, then guess what: you have another paper.'

"Dr. Goldberry may indeed be correct." He had also read an article that took the other side of the argument. "Either way, I need to stop fighting my decisions. I need to trust myself!" He needed to trust the Sousuke Sagara he was now, if he could feel like one person again, one that had a single mind with different parts, and not multiple minds fighting for dominance. Could he manage that?

"Incoming!" That was Al. He wrested control from Sousuke and dropped prone to the ground. A flying ball of energy left a long scorch mark on the A.S.'s back.

"Thanks, pal." Sousuke said. "Incoming?" It seemed that the A.I. was beginning to throw some of his own phraseology back at him. He almost wished that it wouldn't, the way that some parents wished that their children never had to grow up.

"Not any longer," the A.I. replied, missing the nature of its pilot's word. It _was_ still a machine, when all was said and done.

"-" Sousuke had a flashback to Al Jr…. that is, to HAL 2000. He didn't want to worry about Al going rogue… now, or some time in the future. He brushed that pesky thought aside. It was irrelevant, now. He couldn't afford to fixate on future concerns.

He focused on a tactical issue. What were some things that a female brain might be different at? Better or worse at? Women had more intricate contemplation of risk-scenario contemplation based on prefrontal control of the amygdala. He could certain benefit from that now. They had a less strong reaction to threatening stimuli, and reacted with less physical aggression due to differences in that same area of the brain. That might be detrimental. There was a higher susceptibility to stress in women; but, that might be societal, and not due to brain differences. He still had his own mind and memory of experiences; but, he did seem to be more anxious than usual. There was supposedly a decreased performance in spatial tasks for women, while they were said to be being better at solving puzzles, and to be better at seeing misdirection. He would welcome that trade-off in the remainder of the battle. Women were less likely to suffer from tunnel-vison when deeply engaged with something, and to be better multi-taskers. They were said to be less impulsive, and to be better at absorbing more sensory input. All those would be pluses. How could he take the best from both genders? "Damn!" He needed a safety device to keep his mind from overheating.

For a moment, lost in thought, he had lost sight of Lucas. He had also come full circle in his course plotting, and was back near the passageway that had led them all to the Elementary School. There it was! The orange A.S.! Staring right down his broadside, with a perfect shot. He tried to back away; but, he lost good sense of his surroundings. He backed Arbalest into a wall of the temple building, causing the frightened monk in the basement to pass out, and not from the three bottles of sacred wine he had just guzzled down. Girl Brain. Boy brain. What did it matter, if it was a dead brain?! Could he pull off a trick maneuver, like a back hand spring, pushing off the roof of the temple.

He crouched, reading to jump backwards as high as the ARX-7 could. Just as he watched the orange A.S. point in his direction… the way that babe Ruth would point to an area of stands, letting everyone know where he would hit his next homerun… he heard words that had his heart sinking like a lead balloon.

"There must be a hydraulics leak, Sergeant." That was the A.I., whose voice never changed pitch or cadence. Could a machine worry? Could it feel the approach of the Inevitable? "The left leg still functions, and will allow for bipedal motion when I manage to reroute fluid and trigger internal flaps to isolate the loss; however, propulsive force will remain lacking, either in jumping or kicking."

In other words, he was a sitting duck. He felt the same way he had when he was rescuing Kaname, sitting in an RK-92 Savage, waiting for things to slowly boot up, as an approaching pair of Arm Slaves were shooting into the building. But, Arbalest was not Russian, and he wasn't about to call it a scrap heap. _Think!_ What could he do? He would throw himself to the ground at the last moment, avoiding at least one more strike; but that would put himself in another worse position.

"We need the Lambda Driver, pal." He said that like a request, even though he knew that wouldn't change things one way or another.

"Affirmative," Al replied, sounding a bit like him. "I agree. However, it is being uncooperative."

"Do your best to convince it, Al." Sousuke used one hand to smack Kaname's forehead. He knocked away a cinematic flow of images. He didn't believe in the 'life flashes before your eyes nonsense'. He had no time for reminiscing, or for thoughts about future hopes and dreams, whatever those rare beasts might be. As he watched, the enemy Arm Slave took up a stance he had come to recognize. Any moment now, another ball of light would form.

"Affirmative." *Pause* "Sergeant," Al asked. "Do prayers help?" Before his pilot had opportunity to reply, he followed up with a second query. "If we are defeated here… will the enemy destroy my core?" *pause* "Will I die?"

"I don't know," was all that Sousuke said. It was the true answer to the first question. For the second, he had been about to say you cannot die, because you have never lived. While he was clueless to a fault, he was not _that _clueless. That answered would seem cruel and insensitive, even if the machine wouldn't take it that way. Either way, things were now in the hands of Providence.

He punched a number into the communications console.

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**IN THE LABORATORY**

"She's hot!" Dr. Necessiter said, watching the television screen.

"Damn skippy," Dr Hfuhruhur said. "I think I have a boner." Every woman in the room looked like he was the first creature who had crawled out of the primeval ooze. He couldn't help himself. The woman was showing altogether too much leg and cleavage.

"_Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h!"_ Every woman in the room, save for Anne and Kaname, shushed the two men. Those two exceptions simply sighed and rolled their eyes.

Again.

"This is Akiyo Takashima, TXN News." The shot switched to that of a flying blue-and-white Bell 206L Long ranger III helicopter, before returning to the profile shot of the tidy and attractive Asian woman, holding a microphone while the copter hovered high above a mind-boggling fight scene. "As we bravely risk our lives to bring you this coverage, the battle rages on." Shed put a hand to one earpiece. A suggestion or some form of direction must be coming in.

"Yes, this reminds me of those famous wildlife shows I watched as a little girl." She had never watched one in her life. "We've all seen them. Lion versus hyenas. Walrus versus polar bear. Crocodile versus anything else. And the most famous of them all…." She paused, until told to speak again. "Mongoose versus cobra!" She spoke the last like it was two words, 'co' and 'bra.'

A quick video took the place of her image. Naturally, it was footage of a mongoose and king cobra facing off against one another. Her image returned.

"They should show her ass," a security guard said, taking a page out of the two doctors' book. **"Uphhh!"** A pint-sized female medical attendant had kicked him hard between wind and water. She ignored him when he called out 'N-N-N-_Nurssse'_ in a barely audible voice.

"This is a lot like the epic showdown between mammal and reptile," Akiyo said, enunciating her words as if she was harking the opening of a new car dealership, or was doing the commentary for a crazy Japanese TV game show. "Much like an Indian grey mongoose taking on one of the world's most venous snakes… the King Co-bra! Watch the down below, as they circle each other the way those animal enemies do, looking for a weak spot, before the snake strikes in rapid succession at its enemy's face."

"Milk Duds?" Dr. Necessiter held up an open box of candy to Kaname, who sighed and shook her head.

"Jujubees?" Dr. Hfuhruhur followed suit. "Delicious fruit-flavored gummy candies." He shook the box under Anne's nose.

"I'll pass." She said that to be contrary. She really _did_ love gummy candies.

"But the mongoose is too quick," the announcer continued. "It leaps and dances out of the way, before closing in, trying to bite the cobra's head. The two arch nemeses attempt to stare one another down before striking at one another again, to bring their duel to an end."

The image switched to footage of another snake and mammal tussle, while a canned voice took over: "While the cobra had very potent venom, that is unfortunately not enough to stop a hungry mongoose. This is because the mongoose is very agile and has a very thick coat. Moreover, the feisty little animal has a chemical trick up its furry little sleeve. Many species of mongoose possess a specialized acetylcholine receptor that renders them immune to cetaiin snake venoms… including cobras… and King Cobras… which despite the name, are not truly cobras, but a closely relate species. Black mambas, too."

Akiyo returned to describing the actual fight taking place below her.

"So, who's the mongoose?" An old woman wearing chemical-stained overalls asked.

"Well, the one A.S. is orange, like some cobras." Dr. Necessiter stroked his chin.

"And, that Arm Slave had the shape of a cobra's hood, before it blew off those wingie-things."

"_Wingie-things."_ Dr. Necessiter snickered. "Does Furbie Wurbie need to go nappies? Made a boom boom?"

"Do you want to throw down!" An irate Dr Hfuhruhur began shaking a fist at his fellow scientist, who turned around and pantomimed pulling his pants down to moon him.

"So that would make Sousuke the mongoose-" Kaname said. Her spirits rose considerably, thinking that thought. "-And that means he'll probably win, _right?"_

No one answered. They were too engrossed in the remarkable footage. The battle was give-and-take for a while, but began looking a decidely lopsided.

"The way it shoots those things," an engineer said. "It's almost like it's a spitting cobra." Typically, spitting cobras aim for their adversary's eyes; if their aim is true, immediate pain, swelling and blindness may ensue, which usually deters the predator. "If a mongoose gets venom in the eyes, it might run off; but, I doubt that the poison would do it in."

"It sure looks like those things could do the white A.S. in," a woman said, who had no personal knowledge of Arbalest. "He's lucky he has been quick so far… and cunning." Moments after she said that, Arbalest's movements had led it into a series of gaffs.

"Not every snake a mongoose comes across is a cobra or a mamba," a male technician said, holding his hand out for some Milk Duds. It was too late. Dr. Necessiter was pelting Dr. Hfuhruhur with them, while ducking the Jujubees chucked by _his_ arch nemesis. "Even a group of mongooses… mongeese?" He shrugged. "Even a bunch of the furry guys will stay away from a python."

"Yup!" The sore security guy said. "Life is like a box of chocolates… you never know what you might get." His Forrest Gump voice was beyond atrocious. "You might get a cobra… a king cobra… or a python…."

"Or an anaconda!" The engineer added.

"Or maybe it's not a snake at all," Dr. Necessiter said, his hair full of colorful candies, making him look like a prop from one of the Wonka movies. "Maybe it's a hawk… or a jackal…"

"Or maybe a leopard," Dr. Hfuhruhur contributed. "Or a tiger!"

"**Or two tigers!"** The two doctors said in unison.

"Thanks, for that." Kaname felt her anxiety starting to crescendo, again.

"Phone!" A communications jockey had to shout to be heard. "Miss Chidori!" When the girl Walked to the console, he handed her the head-set.

It was Sousuke.

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**ON THE EDGE OF THE GRAVEYARD**

The orange A.S. was triangulating shots, and had not moved its feet during the last three attempts.

While being used in attack-mode, the antennae no longer served as global radar, but rather functioned to precisely pinpoint the forward target. The pilot's attention was fixated on the stricken Arbalest, which was impeded mightily, leaning back against a building. The two facts together almost resulted in an unwanted surprise.

The change in focus for the antennae did _not_ deactivate other sensors. So, when Gloomy Bear rushed into strike, intending to be a distraction _and _to do some damage while the orange machine's shield was hopefully down, Mr. Magnesium merely waited for the absolute perfect moment, and performed a perfect grand jeté, a long horizontal jump, starting from one leg and landing on the other which usually involves a full leg split in mid-air. The dancer hits the fullest split at the height of the jump, with weight pushed slightly forward, giving a gliding appearance. It was the way that Mitamoto wanted to kick, rather than taking a simpler more gauche movement, like someone trying to kick a field goal or someone else taking a shot at a soccer goal. He smiled as the pink nuisance went flying, high above the ruined ground. A fall from that height should kill the bastard, if the kick itself hadn't.

Returning to a standing position, he caught sight of an even smaller flea. An adorable looking Red Panda… his darling Retsuko… a character that he was familiar with from You Tube… sat crouching with a weapon at his shoulder. But, the mascot didn't fire. Either did he. He would ignore the trash, even though he must be like most other rugged men ,who laughed when they saw him dance. This was his way of saying 'I am better than you. I don't need to destroy you to prove that.' He chuckled. The first part of Retsuko's name means 'rage' or 'fierce'. The second part, 'ko', translates to child. 'Rage-child' or 'fierce-child' seems like the accurate description himself, and not simply the animated heroine.

Thinking of his past, he mimicked the voice of death-metal Retsuko. He stopped short of asking Lucas to serve as a karaoke machine. **"Raaa-aa-age. **Choke on my _raaaa-aa-age._ Lightning grant me your vengeance. Lightning grant me your vengeance. **Strike them **_**dowww-ww-wn.**_ Strike them _dowww-ww-wn."_ Yes! Ball lightning! His cleverness knew no bounds!

Male ballet dancers get the worst reputation. There is a reason why. Honestly, it comes down to tights and a dance belt. For some reason, that equates to effeminate, which equates to gay. But, if you look at the spectrum of dance, ballet is probably the most manly when it comes to repertory… with the exception of Dresden Semper Opera's version of bluebird, which is just… well… flashy, to be polite.

The roles for men in classical ballet are the following: prince, cavalier, slave, pirate, prince, cavalier, lover, prince… you get the gist. Because of these roles, the vocabulary is limited, as say compared to a jazz dancer. Now, because the way the music was written, and because male variations are these extremely heavy, weighted variations, the steps a male ballet dancer usually performs are well… limiting. While women are known for their pointe shoes and flexibility, male ballet dancers' small repertoire of moves seemed far less impressive to the average eye, and does not earn them some kind of a pass. The female dancers are the queen of the show. The men are not kings of anything. Not unless they are a transcendent talent, like Rudolf Nureyev, Vaslav Nijinsky, or Mikhail Baryshnikov.

There were many misconceptions that someone like Miyamoto faces in his life as a dancer: Male ballet dancers are weak and frail like girls. Male ballet dancers prance around all day, while in actuality they lift weights more than many athletes. All male ballet dancers are gay and boys in ballet just want to be girls. Men in ballet are not athletic, and couldn't do other sports, making them lesser men.

"Assholes," Mr. Magnesium said, speaking out against all who had mocked him, in the past… at least those who he had not already dealt with. On a cruel whim, he walked a few steps and lifted his foot above the Aggretsuko character, who had thrown down his weapon and raised both arms. He brought the foot down, just a foot or so from the man's quaking form. That big strong alpha male type was afraid. He liked that. He threw his head back and laughed a deep long laugh, causing Lucas to evaluate his vital signs again. Turning back to take advantage of his boon… a trapped and seeming powerless foe… and not wanting to be like the idiotic villains in the movies who let their Bonds and the like get away, he repeated some words he had told himself in the past.

Some wounds never go away.

"Miss Chidori," he said. "You play sports. You must look down upon men like me. While track athletes jump hurdles that stand at forty-two inches, ballet dancers are clearing more air while looking relaxed. While American football boasts the manliest sport, they are still basically wearing tights. While wrestlers are wearing less than ballet dancers and are always_ touching_ each other, very rarely do two men ever touch in ballet. While soccer players are drilling for foot speed, ballet dancers are drilling for foot speed at a faster pace, and in exact positions. While regular guys are at the gym lifting and taking selfies, male ballet dancers are lifting women for eight hours without straining their necks and making ugly faces and grunting like they are taking a dump. And… while baseball players are coordinating catches…." It sounded like he was going to crown all male dancers with the ultimate crown. "…Male ballet dancers are coordinating catching _**women."**_

Incredibly, he actually managed to pose while clamped into his pilot's chair.

He should have kept his lips tightly shut, and paid more attention to the entire area of conflict. There were more players in the play than had showed up on his show list.

He would find that out the hard way.

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**JUST OUTSIDE THE BATTLEFIELD**

Arabiki Fukuoka had heard most of the contents of Psalm 23:4:

_The LORD is My Shepherd. He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for the sake of His name. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.…_

Indeed, he felt as if he were standing in the valley of the shadow of death, as he saw the final group of metallic women run up.

They looked shiny and happy, almost; but, his instinct told them that they carried death of the most certain kind. He did fear _that_ evil. He had no shepherd. He had no god to protect him, or to comfort him. For the first time in his life, he felt naked, being bereft of any sort of religion. He closed his eyes, almost as if he could not see the she-devils, they could not see _him_.

As that last of the Groupies ran past him, he marveled at their grace. It seemed as if they ran on their tiptoes, and still managed to sway in a way no human woman could. They were so swift. So agile. They had flair. They had verve. They had a certain je ne sais quoi. Yet, they were true femme fatale, with the emphasis heavy on the last word.

The man within the alien sausage costume took a deep breath… held it… and then let it out. He watched in awe, as the battle unfolded, content to stay back and be a spectator for now. Like a god in the Egyptian underworld, he weighed altruism and survival on a giant scale. Altruism had seemed great before; now, it hardly moved the needle. The same for recompense and reward. The old chestnut held true:

_You can't take it with you._

Just the same, the time came when a small seed of heroism grew into a small sapling… then a tree of fair height… and finally a stately tree full of blossoms. Perhaps he was just opportunistic. Or, it may be that he had been wisely biding his time.

"**Balls out!"** He told himself. He didn't really know what he could do. He simply felt that he had to do _something_. At the very least, as the Sausage Sheriff, he had to do something in honor of his Deputy. "I know the basics of how to work this one." He began setting up the Carl Gustaf, first looking behind him, to see how things stood now.

Before the flamboyant superhero-like Arm Slave entry, that boy… Shinji by name, he thought… had been driving him, trying to reach the same site that the other mascots had arrived at before them. As the oversized passenger, he had felt like a sideshow freak, or a costumed cretin on a parade float, waving to the curious or scornful adults along the way, and blowing kisses for the shouting or crying children, streetside. One woman had actually run up to him, asking him to autograph a package of hot dogs.

As the boy towed him down a narrow pathway, he saw the flashing lights of an approaching squad car, the first of many yet to come. In the distance, he heard the harsh honks that heralded the imminent arrival of hook-and-ladder trucks. No doubt there would be at least one ambulance. Who knew what the military might do, or when they would get around to doing it?

"Don't stop, junior sausage," he had called out to his chauffer. "There's full sausage status for you if you get me to that end wall." The path dead-ended, one hundred yards down within a crowded cemetery. He thought he heard the boy yell back that he didn't want that status, but he must have misheard. The wind was gusting, and street was growing noisier by the moment. He needed to ride as far as he could. Running… even walking… would have been very difficult in the suit, even without a single weapon or its ammunition.

"**YOU THERE! ON THE TRACTOR! HALT!"**

When the police ordered the boy to stop, he jumped off of the tractor, effectively halting himself. He left the tractor in gear, and it happily continued on its way. He tossed something awy from him. The pistol, no doubt. Smart kid.

Just before the wayward machine struck the antique wall, close to a pair of abandoned UTVs, Arabiki felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, no mean feat inside the stuffy sausage suit.

A large orange Arm Slave, which in a blur reminded him of Varan from 'Destroy All Monsters,' streaked into view in more than memorable fashion. It was those 'wing's that brought that association to mind. Varan had a minor role in the movie, because its monster suit had been heavily damaged from age, and had being constantly remodeled and used in the _Ultraman_ series. Because Toho had already spent a huge budget for all of the many other monsters in the film, they used a small stiff prop for Varan rather than construct a new suit.

That monster had also been slated to appear in an early draft of 'Godzilla vs. Gigan' entitled 'The Return of King Ghidorah', as well as the original draft of 'Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All Out Attack'. In the first film, he was scrapped in favor of Anguirus, and in the later for King Ghidorah.

_Did that history bode poorly for the new arrival?_

"I'm certainly not drunk," Arabiki told himself. "But maybe I should _start_ drinking." He doubled down on that suggestion, when he saw the first of the Groupies run by, and as he watched as Arbalest and Lucas did battle. "Psychoactive drugs, too. They can't be any weirder than _this!"_ It had been exciting when the mascots had done their 'Kumbaya' moment, and rushed onward to save Tokyo, albeit in a staggered sequence. Now, he was having a difficult time maintaining sphincter tone.

"NO!" That sounded like Shinji shouting. He turned and looked behind him, stepping off of the trailer, and nearly falling on his face. _"PLEASE! I HAVE TO!"_ Hands out from his body, he was being patted down by a male constable, while a female officer was speaking on a field phone. _**"I JUST HAVE TO SEE THEM!"**_ It sounded as if he were about to burst into tears. Gathering himself up, he resumed speaking in a more sedate manner. "They're just a short distance over there. I can almost touch them." The boy's arm was stretched out, reaching to grasp the distant air in a truly tragic way.

"Keep'em busy, kiddo," Arabiki said softly. He was glad that there were no law enforcement personnel heading _his_ way. Yet. Maybe they felt that a large pork product picking up a recoilless rifle was something above their pay grade. He hoped to be able to do whatever he decided to do, before the boys in green showed up. He doubted that JSDF troops would be in a forgiving mood. "This is like the greatest CGI ever," he claimed, turning back to witness the carnage. He felt foolish, hearing his own words. He was watching the real deal, not a B-movie or a video game. Maybe it was because his mind found it far easier to believe those things, than it did the things he could see beyond the wall and a group of bent and badly broken trees that partially blocked his view.

The Arm Slaves tangled.

Those robotic gals darted and dashed about.

As he lugged the Carl Gustaf and placed it on the stone wall, he ducked down as the two battling gargantua pushed and shoved as they neared his position, flattening the remainder of the fractured oaks. He could see the other mascots as they were firing… running… and _dying._

When the swarm of metal balls from the car-sized claymore *zinged* past his ear and knocked the flashing lights out of the nearest police vehicle, he stayed prone on the ground for a while, listening to the shots of a giant shotgun and bee-hive hum of a monstrous multi-barrel weapon. Yes. Why not stay there for a while? It's amazing how comfortable a rough pathway could feel when there was a titanic life and death tug-of-war unfolding, too loud for his liking, and much too close for comfort.

A few more police cruisers rolled in.

A truck of soldiers arrived not long after them.

The military men dismounted, but they carried nothing more than rifles, a First Aid kit, and a banged-up megaphone. They were all just standing there, until an officer began directing their movement with the voice amplifier. But, all they did was take up strategic watching positions, awaiting who knows what to do whatever and whenever. He heard a jet scream past, far overhead. By the glimpse that he got, it was an air superiority fighter… maybe an F-15… and _not _a ground attack jet. It certainly did not have the characteristic wings of an F4. He wondered, how far away the closest ATGM-armed helicopters might be, or a transport helo carrying anti-tank squads.

"Might as well ask for a dragon from 'Game of Thrones'," he told himself. Hell. He'd personally kiss Drogon on his lizard lips if he showed up. Why stop there? He'd give Gigantor a hand job, or french-kiss Astro Boy and Tobor the Eight Man if they put in an appearance. Of course he would prefer Captain Marvel… the female one. He coughed a couple of times… cleared his throat… and stood up again. "I don't fucking need any daydreams. I'm tougher than _that!"_ It was true. He had been planning to hand in the sausage-suit, and to sign on as the new mascot for a beef jerky manufacturer.

He opened a tough plastic case, shaped like two small artillery shells next to one another. Inside, he found two differently marked munitions, one labeled 'ASM' and the other labeled 'HEAT'. Ex-police, she should have no idea how to use the simpler of two weapon at hand. He had, however, done some weekend training with the JSDF, when he was looking for a new career. He had a rough idea how to use the the Grg m/48 … Granatgevär… grenade rifle' model 1948.' That was the Carl Gustaf Recoilless Rifle, as it was known in Sweden, its country of origin. This modern version… which British troops refer to as the 'Charlie G' and the U.S. military service calls the 'M3 Multi-Role Anti-Armor Anti-Personnel Weapon System' or 'MAAWS'… and some simply call 'The Goose'… allows airburst capability of troops in defilade out to 1,250 meters, weighing twenty some odd pounds empty. It was light weight but very capable.

"I wish the kid was here," he said to himself. The weapon was best used as part of a two-man team. "Let's see if I can get this right." He pushed lever to swing open the conical breech-mounted Venturi recoil damper. He then checked to see that body tube was clear. After a quick debate, he inserted the Anti-Structure Munition, designed especially for destroying buildings and other types of urban constructions. He twisted a ring at end to activate the then twisted one specific ring on the telescopic sight for that type round, after he closed and latched the cone. "Man, I always wanted to do this. But this isn't for fun. This is for all of the marbles." He placed the weapon on one shoulder, pulling the tripod tight against his chest. He squinted through the scope, targeting the part of the orange machine that he imagined the pilot would be seated behind, and adjusted sighting mechanism. He cocked the trigger until it clicked. "Firing firing firing"

He pulled trigger.

**W-H-O-M-P**

The round fired with a short strong kick, nothing all that frightful, given the size of the munitions. Sheepish, he turned to make sure no one was behind him. The overpressure or blast wave generated by the Gustaf will cause blast and burn related injuries to those behind the gun, and is dangerous to thirty meters… and hazardous to about fifty to seventy-five meters. Repeatedly firing the Gustaf can also cause related shock wave injuries to gunners and those nearby. As a result, during training, gunners are only allowed to fire six rounds a day. Assistant gunners also often move away from the overpressure zone, so that they too can fire six rounds a day.

Vernon Louis 'Lefty' Gomez had been an American professional baseball player. A left-handed pitcher, Gomez played in Major League Baseball between 1930 and 1943 for the New York Yankees and the Washington Senators. Gomez was a five-time World Series champion with the Yankees. He was also known for his colorful personality and humor throughout his career and life. He once famously remarked, 'I'd rather be lucky than good.'

Arabiki should express the same sentiment, if he was honest. His shot did not come close to hitting his mark. But, it _did _hit the most crucial target he could have chosen, had he been aware of the significance.

The right 'antenna' on Lucas's head had just begun glowing. That meant a force bullet was forming, possibly the one that would disable Arbalest, making the finishing blow simple and inescapable. But, that also meant that the moment of impact was the one instant while that structure was vulnerable.

**Slammm-mm-m** _**Chinkkk-kk-k**__ tinkletinkletinlketinkletinklr tink tink_

The ASM munition did its job admirably, fracturing its target, leading to an internal explosion as the shaped energy went berserk, imploding before exploding, and sending small pieces of the antenna sliding down the curved body contour, to bounce around the orange A.S.'s feet.

"_BANZAI!"_ Arabiki shouted. He took the recoilless rifle down and swung open the rear latch again. He flicked another lever, extruding the rear portion of the spent casing, allowing him to remove it from the tube. Whistling, he took out the HEAT round from its case, and began the loading procedure again. Drunk on success, he wasn't really thinking clearly.

Like the weapon on the back of the Predator, the Gatling gun on the back of Lucas pivoted and opened fire.

_Spingchip spingchip spingchip spingchip spingchipspingspingspingchip_

Even without the radar, the A.I.'s targeting ability was primo. Bullets tore huge chips from the wall, even knocking whole broken bricks out of the back side of the structure. Letting the open weapon fall, the Sausage fell himself… by design, not because he was hit. He would lay down and play dead, hoping to the high heavens that he would not soon _be _dead. Sprawled on the ground, one of his antennae ironically broken off and the other bouncing on its long spring, he swallowed hard, and listened at the wall, the way some people in the American West once listened to train tracks, to see if a train was a'comin'. Nothing yet.

He happened to look over at the trailer. The other weapon was still there. He had no idea what it was, and had no desire to know.

He was done here. One way or another.

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**AT THE SIDE OF THE TEMPLE**

Sousuke knew that he was in deep shit.

It wasn't actually the first time; but, this time the shit was much deeper than most other times. Not as bad as facing a Codarl in an RK-92. But, maybe not all that much better. It was no fun facing off against an opponent with overpowered weapons. It was also a bit of a headache to face someone with better skill or experience. His fight with Clouseau had helped him learn that lesson yet again. Was Mr. Magnesium better than he was?

"Kurz is not parachuting down to save the day, this time." That remark was made out loud, prompting the A.I. to ask for an explanation. Sousuke gave an abbreviated Cliff Notes version of the events that followed Kurz's saving him from Gauron.

"Was my arrival that day a deus-" Al didn't have time to finish his next query. The person operating communications at the Laboratory answered. Before long, Kaname was on the line.

"Sousuke-" Kaname spoke, a treble in her voice. Sousuke didn't know that she had been watching the lopsided battle. She told him so, before asking why he called.

"There are a number of reasons," Sousuke admitted, keeping a close eye on Lucas. He hoped that rudimentary self correctional components in the ARX-7s injured limb might address the mechanical issues. He needed to pick his brain, feeling that he had forgotten something important. But, he also felt a great need to speak to the owner of 'his' new body.

"First," Sousuke continued after a short moment of silence, his words scribbled on a mental chalk board. "I defeated Gauron in Khanka, despite being new to Arbalest and the presence of the Lambda Driver. I won handily against five foes in Hong Kong, despite earlier being at one of the lowest points in my life."

"Because of me?" Kaname offerered, a soft hopeful tone in 'her' voice.

"I am _not _superstitious," Sousuke claimed, trying to convince himself more than Kaname. "But… the common factor in each attack… was _you_…"

"I see," Kaname said, a tough of anger in 'her' voice. "So I am part of an equation, _am_ I?"

"Kaname," you sound irritated, Sousuke observed. "Have you eaten one of the foods that my body disagrees with on occasion?" He listed a handful of such. "Or, have you grown weary with the experiments… or putting up with the two doctors…."

"No, Sousuke-" Kaname began. "I am not irritated. Just disappointed."

"Disappointed?" Sousuke lost focus on his foe. "How are you-" He was interrupted by the A.I.

"Based on the vocal pattern, I would deduce that Miss Chidori is disappointed in you Sergeant." Al's lights blinked on and off in dazzling patterns. "I do not totally understand romance-" It was the machine's turn to be cut off.

"Either does Sergeant Slaughter, there." Kaname harrumphed.

"If things are indeed related to romance," Al added. "I will make a request. If things are now going to evolve to sexual topics, I ask that you exclude me from the loop." All of the panel lights went out temporarily. "After all… I should inform you… I am a virgin."

Neither Sousuke nor Kaname had an immediate reply for _that._

*cough* "Second," Sousuke continued, sweating for some unknown reason. "I will mention Hong Kong again. When I left without telling good bye, you were very upset. You travelled to a danger zone because of my actions. I do not want that to happen again. You can speak to me now, this way, while you are safe there."

"Well that's sweet-" Kaname began. Her voice then went very dark. "Wait. Tell me good bye?" She thought back to Khanka, not Hong Kong. "This better not be like _that_ time. You better not be telling me that you are going to go off and die. I don't want that, Sousuke! Not that time, and especially not _this _time"

"But-" Sousuke couldn't get a word in.

"Is it because of the ring?" Kaname asked. Like Sousuke's, hers was entirely black. "Is it because you might be me forever… you know what I mean… and you don't care to live like that?"

"I-"With that single utterance, Sousuke managed to convey a 'no' answer.

"Then is it because you have run out of ideas, again?" Kaname sounded exasperated and scared at the same time. The memories from that kidnapping episode were still just as fresh as subsequent events. "Is that Sousuke brain thinking 'I have to sacrifice myself to take down the enemy… because no one else can?' That's really arrogant, mister. I bet-"

"**That's it!"** Sousuke clapped his hands together. "You have helped me remember. The _grenades."_ He had forgotten about his belt of anti-armor grenades. "I could have done that before, when we were in close. If I can grab hold of him again, I can detonate all of the grenades at once." He typed commands on a keyboard and brought up a small spring-loaded lever. He could push it down, having it serve as a dead man's switch. "There is a chance that one or both of us may die. But, regardless, the blast should injure both of us severely. He will not be able to return to the school or the neighborhoods that our classmates and teachers have run to seeking shelter. I cannot let Arbalest be captured, however. Hopefully I would be able to escape, before self-destructing."

"Pardon me," Al said. His monotone could not sound affronted.

"That plan is vetoed, Sousuke." Kaname was practically shouting, now. "Kurz might not be here to clue you in, but everyone else is. Hey. Everybody. Do you think Sousuke should suicide to stop the bad guy?"

"_NOOOO-OOO-OO-OOOOO-O!"_ That voice was the combined voices of the entire laboratory, pretty much.

"**Don't say a word!"** That voice in the background was clearly Miss Uumellmahaye. "_Either_ of you!" It didn't take a genius to guess who she must be talking to. "Why don't you use your big brains to come up with an idea to help Sousuke?!"

"You see," Kaname said hopefully. "There's _always_ another way!"

"There's a third reason I called," Sousuke said. He flinched. The orange A.S.'s right antenna had a slight glow about it, heralding another shot. Mr. Magnesium must have stabilized his power source and refocused his mental control.

"What was that?" Kaname. In the background, Anne was shouting 'Everybody move back. Way back. Give the girl some privacy, for Pete's sake." The identity of the name 'Pete' in that idiom is unclear.

"I wanted to hear your voice," Sousuke said. "But… I… well…." *cough* I forgot that I would be hearing _my_ voice."

"Oh." Kaname said. "I see." Sousuke didn't have 'her' on visual, so couldn't see how 'she' pursed 'her' lips or fluttered 'her' eyelids.

**Slammm-mm-m** _**Chinkkk-kk-k**__ tinkletinkletinlketinkletinklr tink tink_

Some type of round struck Lucas, fracturing its target, leading to an internal explosion as the shaped energy went berserk. Imploding before exploding, the appendage shed small pieces, many of which slid down the craft, and some of which decorated its shoulder like dandruff.

"_See!"_ Kaname shouted gleefully. "Didn't I tell you. Now the other guy can't make those ball thingies." She nodded her head, glad that no one commented on _her _use of 'thingies.' Dr. Hfuhruhur made a sour face. "So… now… _promise_ _me _you won't use the grenades!"

"I cannot do that," Sousuke said, sadly. But, he wasn't feeling fatalistic anymore. With all of the drama, he had forgotten that he was still wearing a big Easter Bunny suit. That suit gave him an idea.

"But-" Kaname began.

"You have to trust me, Kaname." Sousuke said, flexing the ARX-7's damaged leg.

"We can walk again," Al said. "While we move…." Sousuke had steered the A.S. towards Lucas, and was moving in that direction. "…I have a question. Was miraculous attack on my counterpart a deus ex machina… English 'god from the machine'… in stories at least, a plot device whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem in a story is suddenly and abruptly resolved by an unexpected and seemingly unlikely occurrence, typically so much as to seem contrived. Its function can be to resolve an otherwise irresolvable plot situation, to surprise the audience, to bring the tale to a happy ending, or act as a comedic device. For example, The Martians in H. G. Wells's 'The War of the Worlds' destroyed everything in their path and apparently triumphed over humanity; but, they are suddenly killed by bacteria. In the novel 'Lord of the Flies', a passing navy officer rescues the stranded children."

"Ted 'Theodore' Logan's creation of predestination paradoxes to set up booby traps at the end of 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure'," Dr. Necessiter's voice said. Kaname had placed things on speaker phone, in case someone had something clever to offer by way of a plan. "Sometimes, the unlikeliness of the deus ex machina plot device is employed deliberately."

"Indeed." That was Dr. Hfuhruhur. "For example, comic effect is created in a scene in 'Monty Python's Life of Brian' when Brian, who lives in Judea at the time of Christ, is saved from a high fall by a passing alien space ship." He also made it a point to say that black rings did not mean that there was no hope of a reverse transfer. It just meant that the window was very likely closing, and that the probabilities were dropping like a rock.

"The term was coined from the conventions of ancient Greek theater, where actors who were playing gods were brought onto stage using a machine," Anne said. "The machine could be either a crane used to lower actors from above or a riser which brought them up through a trapdoor. The method was used to resolve the conflict and conclude the drama. The device is associated mostly with Greek tragedy, although it also appeared in comedies. It is generally deemed undesirable in writing and often implies a lack of creativity on the part of the author. The reasons for this are that it does damage to the story's internal logic and is often so unlikely that it challenges suspension of disbelief, allowing the author to conclude the story with an unlikely ending."

"But this is _not _a play or a story," Sousuke added, seeking to quiet the A.I. "The term does _not _apply to real life."

"Incorrect," Al stated. "Every once in a while, a deus ex machina occurs in real life. In 1274… and also in 1281… for example… the Mongols tried to attack Japan but were defeated by freak typhoons that saved the islands from invasion."

"Well then," Sousuke said, watching for any sign of another unexpected trick from the enemy Arm Slave. "There were other ways for us to avoid the threat. So, the answer is no."

"Oh." Al said. He had accessed some files that school officials had reported to Mithril, not knowing the true nature of the occurrences. Those reports included every strange or untoward action that had taken place at school that day. "That will fit the definition."

"_What_ will?" Sousuke asked, unknowingly putting 'his' neck in a figurative noose.

"If you should happen upon some miracle that allows you to cover up the day's activi-" The machines's voice was instantly placed on 'Mute.'

"What did your buddy say then?" Kaname asked. "I missed that.'

"-" Sousuke was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

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**AT THE EDGE OF THE GRAVEYARD**

The tension was so thick, its couldn't be cut with an acetylene torch or a CO2 laser.

"Bloody… _fucking_… _**hell**_…" With each word, Mr. Magnesium kicked the base of the console in front of him. **"S-h-i-t!"** That last kick would have broken toes, if he wasn't wearing a full pilot suit.

"We have lost function in the starboard antenna," Lucas said.

"No shit, Sherlock," Miyamoto said, his words dripping acid. "And this is an Arm Slave, not a boat!" He counted to ten, and then let out a long breath. If Lucas was a boat, it was not a boat that was going down. No. He had _not_ hit an iceberg, as such. He had merely passed through a brief squall. The sails may be tattered, but he had a perfectly fine engine in a figurative sense. He pushed a button.

"Transformation commencing," Lucas said. "Running calibration check on port… left antenna."

"Good catch," Miyamoto said, mood stabilizing. "Keep an eye out for the asshole who crashed the party." That had been a one-in-a-million shot. He was not going to risk two-in-a-million! But, he refused to take his own attention off of Arbalest. He didn't want to end up like the classic monologuing bad guy. And, there was something he had to keep in mind. Like certain other Whispered… at least some Whispered men… he sometimes had the ability to predict the future. Usually, it was for big events; but, maybe he could find some advantage today.

"So shall it be done," the A.I. said. It put camera images of the alterations on one view screen, and a 3D schematic with a series of changing numbers. Orientation checked out, as did power readings and load tolerances. Automatic aiming was suboptimal, indicating that manual controls would be best.

Panels opened in upper and lower left arm. Those appendages had a long unusual curve, and the cleverly designed doors exposed a continuous and jointed grove, round in cross-section. That surface was covered with glistening material that would bring up mental images of the inside of a Thermos bottle. Green lights bordered the groove. Those huge LEDs lit in quick succession on both sides of the guide.

"This is going to feel like I'm in 'Tron: Legacy','" Miyamoto said, smiling. "In the Sam Flynn versus Rinzler fight." He put his hands behind his head and stretched until he felt his back and neck loosen. _"I_ will be Rinzler, of course."

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_So, that's 'The Battle, first installment.' Sorry, but there is a lot more to come. We've switched from Fumoffu to the heavy stuff, after all._


	20. Chapter 20

_Can you take more melee and mindful miniseries? I guess we will find out. _

_BTW: forewarned is forearmed. The next chapter has a bit of redundancy built in. Blame my muse, not me._

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**ON THE STREETS OF TOKYO**

There was a mixed mood on the lead bus.

"Freakin' traffic," the bus driver said. Things were deadlocked in front of him. A number of other buses carrying mascots and camera crews were behind him. "I'd like to get as far away as possible."

That buses driver, along with the drivers from the other vehicles, had arrived late on the scene, after getting together at an underground dog fight, filling up with beer, and emptying their pockets with their bets. So what if the boys and girls in the mascots suit had to wait?! The drivers had been paid in full, up front. But, their tardiness had put them in a situation of high anxiety, no one knowing how far the fighting might spread.

It had started as a all on slugfest between gals and guys, and had devolved into explosions, fires, and stampedes. And if that hadn't been enough to break their buzz, an Arm Slave fell from the sky and things became way too exciting, in the worst possible way. Those mascots who ran off to shelter in the school were on their own. Those entertainers who made it onto the buses earned their seats. As they fought to gain entry, the scene looked like something out of a circus with clowns and a little car.

"It could be a damn invasion," the driver speculated. Who could be sure that someone wasn't trying to invade the islands? "Tokyo is the _last_ freaking place I want to be." He had considered abandoning the bus to its fate, and taking a cab. In the traffic, they were practically parked in Fuchū, a city in the western Tokyo area, a half mile short of the Chūō Expressway. "But, if some enemy didn't kill me, my _wife _would. I _have_ to keep this job."

The yellow, white, and green used 1994 model Hino Selega buses sold to the telethon runners by Rama DTD Ltd were not the most expensive buses on the market, nor were they the roomiest or the most comfortable. The passengers were packed like Vienna Sausages in a tin, still wearing their mascot suits, having needed to quickly escape the melee that had broken out on the athletic field.

They had gotten out just in time, wondering at the sounds of explosions, and the increasing number of first responder type of vehicles. When the military trucks began showing up in significant numbers, someone had turned on the new LED television set that had been installed on the well-worn bus. The news feed they saw had everyone reaching for their cell phones and tablets to watch on them too, changing channels to see different footage. At first, everyone stared in shocked silence. Then when things really struck home, they began speaking in a rush, offering discourse every time they saw something mascot-related, or some particularly flashy or devastating bit of Arm Slave action caught their interest or imagination.

"That…." Giant chick Bari-san said, sounding stricken. "That was Kitanyan. I mean, Soemu." He was just torn apart."

"Yeh," feisty otter Chi-tan said harshly. It _should _have been Ja-Bo or Konyudo-kun" Those two mascots finished second and third at the mascot Grand Prix, which had been won by the kappa-costumed Kaparu. That they were even that close in the voting was the result of cheating. They were voted for by municipal workers multiple times apiece, using different voting IDs.

"You shouldn't wish ill on _anyone,"_ big green Kaparu said. "Besides… as long as they are alive… they have to deal with the shame…"

Most of the passengers said a quick prayer for Soemu Tomioka and Yoshinobu Saitou. Some chanted in quiet voices, speaking words of hope for Kantaro Mori and Hirosi Tachikawa. They neglected to chant for Tamon Suzuki.

"Gloomy Bear… that Hiroshi guy… what a _stud!"_ Bowl-headed dog Sanomaru 's actor offered. "But he's only going to make himself a bigger target, that way!"

"I know someone who _won't,"_ Pear fairy Funassyi opined. "Tamon. I'm a big Aggretsuko fan, and he is besmirching Retsuko's honor!"

"At least he's still alive," Hawaiian turtle Honuppi snapped back. He was an off-again on-again buddy of the coarse and opinionated Tamon "I bet you'd run from those robo-bitches, too." O-en shiteru karane! I believe in you, buddy!"

"Gloomy… _noooo-ooo-oo-o_…." Samurai cat Hikonyan 's operator held her breath. She said another quick prayer for Hiroshi, hoping that they hadn't seen the last of him. "_Ki o tsukete_." Take care!

"That-" The head of the telethon froze. He had hoped to sign up that bear. That mascot could bring in big bucks in his projected combat league, especially with all of the TV coverage That he was soaking up now. "Find the fucking bear. Some camera man, focus on the fucking bear." He gave the TV image of Lucas a rude gesture, placing your thumbnail between your index finger and middle finger, this is said to resemble a clitoris, a very rude gesture in japan. "Kuso kurae!" Eat shit!

"Kimi nara dekiru yo!" You can do it! "Sugoi na." Amazing "Kyo wa honto-ni ganbattane." You did your best out there today. "Hokori ni omou yo." I was so proud of you! Everybody was calling out words of encouragement for the man in the mechanical ursine.

There was practically an ōendan at the back of the bus, a cheering squad from the telethon, something similar to a cheerleading squad in the United States, but capable of making big noise with taiko drums; blowing horns and other items; waving flags and banners; and yelling through plastic megaphones.

"Soooseeji soooseeji soooseeji soooseeji soooseeji soooseeji soooseeji!"

Sousejei is sausage in Japanese. They were all calling out for Sousei-jin, after one of the camera crews had caught sight of his shot with the Carl Gustaf recoilless rifle. Their call of alarm soon followed, as he came under fire.

"What the hell is that orange A.S. doing _now?"_ Big boobed bird Paiko asked. "It looks like something out of a science fiction flick."

"_Every_ damn Arm Slave looks like something out of a sci-fi fil," Watermelon King Jumbal III claimed. "I still don't get how a piece of military equipment can look like that… and our stupid bus looks like _this_…."

"It's big money," large cow Wassachi offered.

"No," Jimmy Hattori disagreed. "It's _gotta _be aliens. You bet. Aliens." That remark started a quick argument over the possible existence of extraterrestrials.

"What's that orange Arm Slave doing now?" Rabbit-deer Fukka-chan gasped, watching the orange A.S. It was forming those balls of force again, only on the left side this time. But, there was no sling. Instead, the balls rolled down a glistening grove, until they were passing through a wide flare at the end of the machine's arm, only to be flung with great panache. The shots curved, making it more and more difficult for the white Arm Slave to dodge.

"That reminds me of jai alai," huge lamb Gingiskan No Jin-kun said.

"_What?"_ Toilet-headed Benki-Shiroishi asked.

"Jai alai,"Gingiskan said again. "Often called the "fastest sport in the world. Somebody must have heard of. jai alai!"

"Do you mean that sport … the one that has men with weird basket hands whipping rock-hard balls against a granite wall-" Tangerine-shaped Waka-P offered. "-Trying to make their opponent miss the return while avoiding being hit with the speeding bullet themselves?" Her cable subscription gave her access to _everything._

"**Right!"** Gingiskan said, giving the other mascot a thumbs up. " It's a game that requires a combination of skill, speed, and acrobatics. It originated as a handball game in the Basque area of Spain's Pyrenees Mountains over four centuries ago. Games were played on Sundays and holidays in small villages at the local church, hence the name _jai alai_ which means 'merry festival' in Basque. Players would use the open-air church courtyard and the walls of the church as the _fronton_ or arena. Games moved to indoor _frontons_near the end of the eighteenth century. Around the late 1800's a Basque farmer got the idea that if they put a _cesta_, or basket, on their hands, they could hurl the ball a lot faster and a lot harder."

"Shit." Chi-tan swore. "It sound like we've tuned into the fucking History Channel.

"No," Barisan countered. "Some of us aren't afraid to learn things!"

"Some of us don't look like we're being groomed by Colonel Sanders," Chi-tan grumped. "I wonder… will you be regular, or extra crispy."

A number of other mascots had to break up a scuffle after that. The bus driver threatened to kick any malcontents off of the idling bus.

Eyes still glued to her i-Pad, Funassayi said "Please continue. It kinda makes things seem more real now, hearing about something…; you know, old… and more human." The sight of two battling mechas seemed so un-real.

"The_pelota_**," **Gingiskan, began. He ignored Chi-tan, who mockingly called him Ghengis Khan. "The jai alai ball is the fastest, hardest ball in sports. It has been clocked at speeds up to one hundred eighty eight miles per hour and is as hard as a rock. The ball is about three-quarters the size of a baseball and is constructed of hand wound Brazilian rubber which is wrapped in thread and covered by two hardened goat skin covers. Each ball is made by hand and costs about ten thousand Yen. The cover must be replaced every fifteen minutes of play because it splits after hitting the fronton wall at high velocities. Because of the _pelota_'s hardness and velocity, jai alai is an extremely dangerous sport that has killed several players."

"Heh heh heh," Chi-tan chuckled. _Now,_ he was interested.

"Asshole," Paiko said.

"The _cesta_on a player's hand-" Gingiskan continued. _"-Is_ made of reeds found in the Pyrenees Mountains and is custom made for each jai alai player. The hand is inserted into a leather glove and held in place by a wrap-around tie called a _cinta_. Cestas are hand woven and it takes over fourteen hours of labor to make just one. They're not cheap, either. Each cesta costs over ten thousand Yen, too. Players own several and must constantly repair and replace them from the wear and tear of play. The cestas put the real spin on the game-quite literally. Throwing and catching a straight ball with them would be relatively easy, but players are able to put enormous spin on the balls which makes them less predictable and harder to hold onto."

"Cool!" Benki-Shiroishi said."

"Yup," flowery Chihana-san said. "Wouldn't want to be hit in the wrinkle purse with one of those!"

"The _cancha_isa large three walled court the game is played on," Gingiskan noted. "There is no standard size for a cancha, but the court is typically about 176 feet long… double the size of a basketball court… and 40 feet wide. Spectators sit on the open right side to watch the game and are protected from stray balls by a screen. Because all _canchas_ have a wall on the players' left side, all jai alai players must wear their _cestas_ on their right hand."

"So lefties are out of luck," Sanomaru said.

"I sure hope the guy in the white A.S. isn't a lefty!" Jimmy Hattori offered.

"What makes you think_ he's_ the good guy?" Waka-P asked. He thought that the orange Arm Slave was pretty spiffy.

"What makes you think _she's_ a he?!" Funassyui put in.

"A girl pilot?" The bus driver scoffed. **"Give me a break!"** He then blew the horn several times. Traffic was moving again, but the driver in front of him seemed to forget where the gas pedal was. _"Chikushô!"_

Gingiskan explained how gambling on jai alai was a big thing. Before he finished his spiel, Hanuppi couldn't hold his tongue any longer. He was smart, too. He had something he wanted to mention. No, was compelled to say. It just came spewing out of his turtle mouth: "Jai-Alai is a Predacon from the 'Beast Wars: Uprising' portion of the Generation 1, the longest-running family in the Transformers canon."

_You could hear a pin drop._

Someone in the back of the bus did drop a plastic megaphone. It rolled under the back seat of the bus.

Hanuppi misinterpreted shock for awe. "Jai-Alai is a ninja-like member of the Minions of Unicron. She relies on shuriken disks to quickly and quietly eliminate her foes, and hates leaving any job unfinished. Jai-Alai was an elite enforcer for Cryotek, leader of the Minions of Unicron. The Minions had lost a great deal of territory and influence to Megatron's Darksyders over the years, but Cryotek finally pinpointed the upstart's base of operations. Jai-Alai joined her leader in infiltrating the Builder mansion, only to find Megatron was waiting for them. The trap was sprung with a series of Dropkick drones disguised as statues, and Cryotek's enforcers were quickly wiped out."

"Gah." Barisan countered. "Forget what I said earlier."

"My brain hurts," Paiko admitted.

**Braaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaap**

*cough* *cough*" Hikonyan exclaimed: "Who farted?"

"_Pig!"_ Paiko called out.

"It wasn't me," Coroton, the spherical pig mascot of Maebashi City in Gunma Prefecture cried foul.

"I just hope none of that-" Chihana-san pointed at the TV screen. "-Is a plot by the government."

"_How-"_ Waka-P was befuddled by that comment.

"You know," Chihana-san replied. "This country's national mascot obsession has left it positively overrun. There are now _so_ many that people are losing track of which mascot is which, as well as the products, teams, programs, organizations and social movements they were created to represent in the first place."

"**That right!"** Wasaacchi agreed. "It's gotten to the point where the Japanese government has actually had to start cracking down with mascot population control." That caused a lot of wordless exclamations of agreement and dread. "That's spurred on public outcry and intense debate over which mascots should have their lives spared."

"Do you think the government staged an A.S. fight to stamp us out?" Bari-san said in a strangled voice.

"_**Baka!"**_ Multiple people shouted that mascot down. Someone had obvious been watching too many talk shows about the Deep State.

"It's not like there are secret organizations out there-" Kaparu stated. "-Fighting for the fate of the world!"

"Ninety-nine bottle of beer on the wall," Fukka-chan wanted to change the subject and break the mood. "Ninety-nine bottle of beer. Take one down and pass it around… ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall."

"Ninety-eight bottle of beer on the wall…." Jumbal III picked up the ball and ran with it.

"Are we there yet?" Melon Bear asked in a high-pitched whine.

"Fucking mascots," the bus driver griped.

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**THE NEIGHBORHOOD COMMUNITY CENTER PARKING LOT**

Gloomy Bear was running, listing to one side

It was miraculous, that the small mecha could move at all, after that meteoric rise and fall. It was even more amazing, that the pilot was alive to marvel at it, after that big orange nutcracker had sent him flying with some kind of flitty kick.

His head filled with stars and singing birds, Hiroshi hadn't been able to remember anything about parabolas, but his body did now. Propelled by the power of whopping artificial muscles, he had soared high over the wreckage, seeing the standing areas of the city as an amazing panorama, the way a bird would see, if it were blessed… or cursed… with human eyes. He could see as far as the harbor, but unlike a bird, had no desire to visit the Toyosu Fish Market, looking for scraps of Bluefin Tuna or Horse Mackerel.

No. After the briefest moment of wonder, he all too correctly realized his predicament. Many stories above the ground… soaring through the air with his big pink arms out like the wings of a tern or seagull… he would soon learn one of the salient points about the force of gravity: it isn't the fall that kills you… it's hitting the ground. He saw his wife's face in his mind, followed by different memories of his daughter.

_This is what he gets, trying to be a hero!_

Hero doesn't pay the rent… cover his daughter's hospital bills… or put money away for a good University. Hero doesn't keep his wife warm at night, or lift the weight that she carries on her two shapely shoulders.

He said a very brief prayer. He wondered if he should savor the few seconds he had left, or simply close his eyes and count to ten, the sudden impact erasing all concerns from his life, and washing the stain of his life off of an uncaring world. **No.** _No,_ and no again! He was not a quitter. He would face his coming death like a man… or at least like a man dressed in a large cute and creepy bear suit. He had time for a quick chuckle. He was flying face first towards a huge billboard that the music school had erected roadside at the edge of a parking lot.. So many people had complained that it was an eyesore, that it went against city tradition. But, the cute girl sitting at the Grand piano, wearing her school uniform and smiling like an angel as she tickled the ivories, had helped enrollment skyrocket.

Everyone seemed to want their daughter to be that happy… to be that well placed on the path to success. He wished his daughter the same boon. Just the same, he didn't want to meet that girl, literally. Then again, maybe he _did!_ He was able to change his posture while sailing downward, plunging on the final arc of his flight. The loose sides of his costume, loosened by all of his activity, worked like a poor man's wingsuit. Claws fully extended, he looked like a teddy bear pretending to be a pterodactyl.

"This is going to hurt!"

Hiroshi wished that he had put an airbag in the suit. No! An operable jet engine, able to hover. The wood might give more than rock or cement, but it still wasn't a marshmallow or cotton ball. He held his claws straight out from his body. They were not shock absorbers in even the slightest way, but they were best suited to take the brunt of first impact. His arms, attached to his hands, which in turn were attached to those claws, would suffer shortly thereafter.

BOM-MMMMMMM-MMMMM-MMMM-MMM-MM-M _RIPPPP-PPP-PP-P_

As it turned out, because of cost, and because the billboard was meant as a short-lived advertisement, given neighborhood traditions and sentiment, wood and metal had been used in a sturdy frame, but the rest was made up of a taut fabric covered with the thinnest layers of plaster and paint. While not purely elastic, it still gave to some degree upon impact, softening the blow enough to save his exoskeleton and his life, with relative minor injury.

_Ripppppppp-ppppppp-pppppp-ppppp-pppp-ppp-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p_

A second after the suit met the back surface of the painting, and his face met the inside of the metal basket that made up Gloomy's exoskeleton skull, the extended claws were slicing downward through the fabric, leaving long tears, as if Wolverine were using his iconic weapons as an express elevator down.

**Chink chink** _shish shish_

The claws struck the bottom of the frame, and then slid free. Hiroshi felt like he was in freefall, for all of two seconds. He landed hard on his back, cracking his head against the rear of the metal basket. His tongue lolled out, a tooth nestled briefly at its tip, before escaping. Groggy, he could soon tell that a number of other teeth were loose. There was a taste of blood in his mouth. One eye was swelling shut. His chest hurt, as if he had fractured and broken ribs on both sides, but mostly on the left. His back ached, as did his forehead, cheek, shoulders, and countless other patches on his body. But now, his most noticeable feeling wasn't pain. He had to pee. He had to pee so bad, laying there on his back, strapped into his suit. He had to pee more than he ever had before.

"I told myshelf," he said. "Many twimesh. Put in a Twexash cathwesher." He had been trying to say Texas catheter. It would have been simple enough to add one on, and have a tube from it lead to a large plastic Foley bag. That would have been a godsend on many long mascot job, especially the ones that paid in beer or sake. But, he kept forgetting, on purpose. He thought he would feel as if everyone would have X-ray eyes and see if he did that, and that somehow he wouldn't be a real man who could hold his water with the best of them. Sighing, he resigned himself. He relaxed his urinary sphincter and defiled his battered and torn suit.

"Well, at leasst your ousht of the twee," he told himself, hurting when he laughed. He had played the role of Dr. Grant in Jurassic park in one memorable scene, when the paleontologist had replied to Tim, who had said 'Well… we're back… in the tree again'.

"I was never in any fucking tree," a voice said. "Are you crazy or something. The bastard would see me up there. And look what happened to all of the _other_ fucking trees!" It was Tamom. He had his back firmly against a cement bulwark at the base of the billboard. He still cradled the RPG30 in his lap. "And what's with you. You sound like you got a dick in your mouth or something!" He sniffed and made a face. "Did you _piss_ yourself?"

Hiroshi pointed upward with Gloomy's claws. The track of his descent was obvious. The other mascot must have had his eyes closed in his little hiding place, when he had performed his once-in-a-lifetime death defying act. "Lesh shee you twy t-t-that." It was tough to say t's. "Why you shtill have t-t-that." He tapped one metal claw against the body tube of the rocket-propelled grenade.

"_**Hey,**_** I ain't no cheat!"** The voice from inside Retsuko claimed in a huff. "I'm getting paid for this. I'm still doing my job. I can't do anything if I die, like those other clowns. You know… if the right opportunity comes… _maybe_… just maybe I can make a difference." By the sound of it, it seemed as if nothing would be 'the right time.'

"_Ssshure,"_ was all that Hiroshi offered in reply. He moved his arms and legs, moving Gloomy's limbs in turn. He could stand the suit. In the internal light from the intact LEDs, he could see that the exoskeleton was dinged and dented in places, and there was a slight bend or two; but, things were mostly intact. He took shorts steps forward and back… turned this way and that… bent over and touched Gloomy's toes… and did a few short hops and jumps. Things were a slight bit off, but he was certain that he could adjust.

Should he sit things out, now? He had done more than enough to earn his pay. And, if he had at one time thought of all of this as a job interview, maybe he was deciding that his current job was good enough, or that he really _would _take that shady bastard's offer of employment. He imagined nebulous floating heads above him, with his wife's and daughter's faces looking down at him. He expected them to say 'That's it. You did a man's job. It's enough. You're no good dead to us.' They didn't. His imagination had supplied them with a different script. 'What are you waiting for,' the wife face said. 'Hurry up, Daddy' the daughter face said, dimples and all.

"Thish might nosh be th-the- besh place to hide," Hiroshi told Tamon. "I musht have dwan a losht of at-t-t-t-enshion."

"Hell," the other mascot said, sounding upset that he had to make another decision. "Well… you know… good luck and everything."

"Th-th-anksh." Hiroshi headed in one direction, while Tamon headed in another. The former headed towards the sound of battle. The latter headed to where they had left the UTVs. The sight of a large red panda in a kimono, dragging an unused RPG30, was just as funny in its own way, as anything ever illustrated in Aggretsuko.

"What the hell is that orange A.S. doing now?" Hiroshi heard as Tamon headed out of earshot. "It looks like something out of that sucky second 'Pacific Rim' movie."

The orange A.S. It was forming those balls of force again, only on the left side this time. But, there was no sling. Instead. The balls rolled down a glistening grove, until they were passing through a wide flare at the end of the machine's arm, only to be flung with great panache. The shots curved, making it difficult for the white Arm Slave to dodge.

"You can do it girl!" Hiroshi shouted. "But don't do _that!"_

Arbalest made a sudden powerful motion, a last ditch effort, so to speak.. It jumped the way a diver did off of a diving board, stretching its body flat, heading head first down into the impact crater situated over the underground rail line. That was all he could see at that distance. For all he knew, the ground may have collapsed again, and the girl and the machine may be on their way to North or South China. Wait! There they are! The white Arm Slave had jumped out, and was standing at the edge of the crater.

"Is that all you can do?" A voice came over Hiroshi's com-set, which he had linked to the ARX-7s frequency, using the codes that Kaname Chidori had given him. That must be the pilot of the other A.S., a young man judging by the timbre of his voice. He spoke to Kaname. "Run? Duck? Flop around like some baby harp seal, just before it gets bludgeoned by a commercial sealer?"

"Arbalesh." Hiroshi radioed. "Arbalesh, this is Hiroshi in Gloomy Bearsh." His words were somewhat slurred, and his voice was a bit weak.

"This is Sa-"The girl replied. "This is Arbalest. I read you."

"Don't worry," the young man said slyly. "I have good use for _your_ pelt."

"Pelt, Sergeant?" A voice said. Was that an artificial intelligence, some type of mechanical brain?

"Never mind," the girl said sharply. "It is not a concept for virgins." She made a noise as if clearing her throat. It couldn't be too pleasant, dealing with a foul-mouth prick like the orange machine's pilot. Hiroshi would like to skin that guy alive and toss him an ant's nest!

"Arbalest, what is your status?" Hiroshi asked. "I have taken on heavy damage; but Gloomy and I can still fight."

"My Lambda…." Sousuke started. "My defensive shields are down… and have been spot since being over-stressed… and I am out of ammunition. Thinking optimistically, I stand a chance if I regain shields and the offensive moves that come with them, and I can find a way to remove the source of those force bullets."

"The world resists me and I resist the world!" That young bastard said smugly. "Tremble, Chidori. Beg me to stop. What can a girl possibly do?" There was laughter. "They are useful holes, and nothing more!"

"I _really_ don't like thish guy," Hiroshi said in a voice so still, that it bristled with unimaginable hatred and anger. He felt a strong surge of pain, and wished that he had an Arm-Slave sized bottle of Extra Strength Excedrin. "I teach my daughter to stay away from guys like that bozo." In his battle-narrowed perspective, he saw the man and his orange machine as a predator, as a possible threat to the child that he loved. Children in general meant a great deal to him. That's what made the Gloomy Bear touring worthwhile, in addition to the money that it brought in for his family.

"Ho?" The young cretin huffed. **"Hah!** At least _you_ have a pair."

"What-" Hiroshi looked around. The A.S. couldn't see him yet, could it? He was partially concealed from the view of the two combatants. What was _that?_ Movement. Something small, having a great deal of difficulty with the transformed terrain. "It's a kitten," he reported, forcing his voice to sound more normal, if slow and painfully enunciated, literally. "I think I saw the same one back on Jindai High School grounds." He was pretty sure that he had. But, things had been rather frantic then. Scanning the surrounds, he caught sight of something else, something even more worrisome. "Oh no!" It was not something else. It was some_one_ else.

"Heh heh heh. _You too!"_ The youthful asshole sounded gleeful.

"There's a small boy chasing after the cat," Hiroshi said. A moment later, he growled and said "That orange bastard is pointing his hand at the boy. Cowardly cretin!" Should he rush out and grab the child, bounding away to safety? No. If that Gatling gun opened up, they might both be torn to ribbons. The pilot might not feel compelled to hurt the boy. Maybe he was just up to mental chess or checkers.

"Let's see if fucking Chidori has motherly instincts," the enemy pilot said for dramatic effect, an ever-so-obvious emotional ploy.

"I don't want to sound heartless," The girl's voice said to Hiroshi, the other person excluded from that link, by the clean sound of the background. "But… while I have saved innocents before… it has only been when it would not put a greater number of lives at risk."

"You-" Hiroshi bit back his first reply. He had to stay calm. He had to think, not react. The girl was not the enemy. "I understand. I don't like it. I hate it. But I understand. If you can maneuver into a point of advantage-" He continued, his voice thick with emotion. "-We could coordinate an attack. If that's impossible, I can move in on my own, if you serve as a distraction. These claws may not be adamantium; but, their alloy is top secret, just the same. I'm pretty certain that I can inflict serious damage. Your call."

Unless Arm Slaves of that generation were made of some kind of unobtainium, Gloomy's claws should be harder. The relatively small amount of alloy making up those wicked accessories could buy a large apartment complex or two, should he sell them on the Black Market or Dark Web. He couldn't risk that. He had built them from futuristic military property that he had 'forgotten' to hand in when he was unceremoniously let go, after sneaking his booty back into the research lab after his credentials had been revoked. He had felt like they owed him something, leaving him and his family in the lurch like that! He would do his family little good, imprisoned.

What could he say? He was a rebel!

"I would direct you to the remaining antenna," Kaname Chidori offered. "That is the priority target that I mentioned earlier. Strike it when its vulnerable… and not when it might obliterate you… and your impact upon this fight would be the greatest it could possibly be."

"**Gotcha,"** Hiroshi said. _"Gotta go!_ Gloomy on patrol!" Buoyed by his hatred, and by his general sense of justice, he sounded as if he were truly alive, surfing a huge wave of adrenalin. He could help!

Buoyed by his hatred, and by his general sense of justice, he felt truly alive, surfing a huge wave of adrenalin. But, there was more to it than that, of course. Deep inside, possibly because his ancestors were warriors, he had the soul of a samurai, and was an avid watcher of samurai and ninja films, from the worst to the best. He would apply lessons from the ancient Samurai.

_You Must Have Ambitious Goals._ All achievement starts with goals, and Musashi emphasized that you should be ambitious in setting them. Ambitious goals will help you focus your energies, abilities, and actions to maximum effort.

"What could be more ambitious than taking on that monster," he murmured.

_Incredible Results Are The By-Product Of Incredible Discipline._MiyamotoMusashi's accomplishments make it crystal clear that achieving incredible results requires incredible discipline… knowledge that can be applied to any endeavor. Results, be it in the gym… in the mascot business… or in battle… are the result of consistent effort.

"I will not waver," he whispered. "I will not act foolishly." He might have felt somewhat perturbed, learning the first name of the young man he had gifted with his hatred.

_Learn From Your Opponents._ It was hisability to observe, learn and adapt nearly instantly that made it possible for Musashi to become an unbeatable swordsman without having a tutor. The obvious lesson here: Study your opponents and competitors carefully. Know their strengths and their weaknesses precisely. Learn from them, adapt your approach to take advantage of their weaknesses, and then defeat them before they realize you have changed your tactics.

"I promise," Hiroshi said. If he was lucky, he could move in undetected, strike fast and hard, and then retreat untouched. But, what was the chance of _that?_ It was as if he was a flea sizing up an elephant.

_Pay Big Attention To Small Things._One of the more popular axioms of the Samurai reminded them to treat great things casually and small things seriously… as if their life depended on these details, as it often did.

"Ditto," Hiroshi breathed louder this time. He didn't have to be respectful. He wasn't in the presence of a sensei. He would pay immense attention to detail as the smaller things don't always take care of themselves. He gave Gloomy's systems a quick check… took his own pulse… and began plotting out possible paths of action.

_Use Your Mind As A Weapon._Musashi repeatedly said that it was far better to defeat your opponent with your mind than with a weapon…meaning that it was better to first 'strike' with the mind to weaken or virtually disarm an opponent and then, if necessary, use your sword to finish the job.

"There are many ways to get into your opponent's head and weaken them before the battle begins," Hiroshi said. "If Kaname Chidori doesn't attack along those lines, then_ I_ will find a way."

_Don't Become Too Rigid In Your Approach. Harness The Power Of Silence. Prepare In Advance For Everything._

Hiroshi would do those, whispered: "Hachiman."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**RUINS OF ****SAISHOJI SHRINE **

Mr. Magnesium was in a jovial mood, again

His fury at the antenna's destruction had turned to mirth, seeing that he was such a mercurial soul. For a moment, everything had gone black. Now, it was as if a grand and glorious light shined in his conceited eyes. While he _was_ one to hold a grudge until the Crack of Doom, his emotions could fly faster than a toupee in a fan factory.

As the force ball became larger and larger, he moved the transformed left A.S. arm this way and that, coming acquainted with the difference torques involved in the possible movements.

"I'm _really_ going to enjoy this!" He pictured himself dressed n a suave white uniform, with a number on the back and a smaller version of that number on his left chest area. He'd only participated in gambling on jai alai after some modelling shows in Miami and Barcelona; but, he had always wished that he could strap on a cesta and step out onto an ancient field under a shining and scorching sun.

Being world champion of jai alai was, until recently, like being stickball king of The Bronx or downhill skiing champ of western Kansas. The sporting fraternity was inclined to think of jai alai as a gimmick… when they were inclined to think of the game at all… a mere excuse to get two dollars down at night when the horses were in bed. But while nobody was looking, the game achieved a measure of international prominence. Miyamoto was a big fan. Hence the challenge he had thrown at the engineers: add a cesta to Lucas, even though it already had a sling. Leave run of the mill weapons for the yokels and clodhoppers.

"This will be much more graceful than the sling. And hopefully a lot more rewarding." The pompous pilot proffered.

Yes, the different movement needed to throw the ball now would fit well with sleek and strong ballet moves. Not only that, but he resultant throws would be less accurate, but oh so much more fun. He could put a good bit of English on the balls now, and make them curve, sink, rise, or fly in unpredictable arcs and straights.

"Let's see how much longer you can run, stupid girl." Speaking that to himself, Miyamoto reared the A.S. back, and then swung the arm forward in a strong sweeping motion. The force bullet flew fiercely, leaving a trail of sparks as it tore the molecules of the air apart. _"Ah!_ So close! But it looks like that leg _is_ dragging some." He tossed his head back as far as the headrest would allow, and let out a loud laugh. "That means it's only a matter of time!"

The first ball had swooped in like a hawk dropping down on a dove. In jai alai, a team scores a point if an opposing player under or over serves; fails to catch the ball on the fly or after one bounce; holds or juggles the ball; hurls the ball out of bounds; or interferes with a player attempting to catch and hurl the ball. So, the score was Chidori one, Bokuden Zero. That wasn't a problem. He had added a new rule. Sudden death was his victory, no matter how many points that little tramp had.

"The rules of this game are much simpler," Mr. Magnesium said. "It's just win… place… or show…" He shrugged and sighed. "That shot won't help me get what I want." The next force ball just missed Arbalest. He would only 'place', if that kept up. Placing meant thatg things ended up in some kind of a tie, both Arm Slaves surviving, and his chance at revenge and retribution thrown in the crapper. Showing would mean doing enough to defeat the ARX-7, but with some inconvenient thing taking away his chance to destroy the girl and her ride. Winning? Now _that _was the good stuff. Winning meant that the girl dies. Winning _big_ means that the girl dies, and the ARX-7 ends up in the scrap heap as a bonus.

Naturally, he always played to win. Winning fair and square, or good bit off plumb.

"I'll change things up a tad," he said, typing in a couple of commands, and adjusting a touch screen slider. He increased the magnitude of the force generated by the left arm's wave guide while swinging the giant appendage in a greater arc before releasing the next bullet. Inertia dampers kicked in just before the release. "Churruca guide my ball!" 'Churruca' was Francisco Maria Churruca Iriondo Azpiazu Alcorta, the world champion of jai alai.

This ball was right on target! But… unfortunately… the enemy machine was able to operate its Lambda Driver again. The ball did grievous damage to the shield; but, it had no effect on the A.S. itself.

"Damn," an irate Magnesium spat out sharply, hand twitching. A functioning shield around his prey meant that he would need to input more energy in each projectile, He didn't know how much longer he could manage his Lambda Driver, seeing that the palladium reactor was attached to a safety timer, showing up on one viewscreen as an hour glass. The sand was more than half spent. He added a few new adjustments. He had to be less flighty and flippant. He narrowed his eyes. When the next projectile was ready, he joyfully called out: "Suck on _this!"_

Every ball brought an electric thrill for him. This one was no exception.

Would it it the target? Would it hurt his adversary? Would he get payback for the day's earlier slights, and by association pay down some more against all of his life's torments, going back to his mother, who still showed up as a cold-eyed gargoyle in his dreams. This wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. It didn't help that this was his first time using the Arm Slave's newest addition. But, up until now he had seemed to be blessed by Lakshmi, Benten, Shai, and Fortuna, goddesses of Luck all.

In jai alai, a player must begin when he is a stripling… must play the game for six or eight hours a day… and must bring himself to a peak of physical conditioning before he has a vestige of a prayer of becoming a professional. Anyone who has ever played tennis can take a crack at racquets or squash or badminton or table tennis without looking too much the fool. The girl _would _die. There was no way that he was going to come out looking like the fool!

"Attempting to throw a jai alai ball around without any experience-" The pilot said, trying to stamp out a growing swell of frustration. "-Is equivalent to sitting down to a mah-jong game with your Chinese laundryman." He went to run a hand through his hair, forgetting he had pilot's helmet on. "But, taking shots at a crippled player cures a lot of ills."

Each attack built upon the one before, bringing a rush of adrenalin and a heightened sensation of expectation. There was an itch he just had to scratch. There was a red string of Fate that he just had to cut. "How about a Miami special?" There had been an excellent player named Isidoro who specialized in a 'Manolete' shot. Just as Manolete… a historic and world-famous Spanish matador… used to pass the bull while looking somewhere else, Isidoro would catch the ball on the short hop and slam it back to the front wall while staring at a little old lady in the third row. Thousands would cheer, and the opponent would feel a whammy creeping over him.

Mr. Magnesium pointed his finger at where Arbalest **was,** but through the ball sidearm to where the A.S. would _be._

The third ball shot forth and moved in a way that Physics just can't explain. Was it an illusion, somehow? Or did the ball truly bob and weave as it rose on a slight incline, screaming towards Arblaest's back as it turned and ran, leaving a vacuum the way that a lightning strike does. That one ought to destroy the shied and cause Kaname Chidori's reactor to overload, or whimper and blow out like a weak candle flame.

"NO ONE DOES _THAT!"_

Miyamoto cursed in three tongues, forgetting what the actual swear words meant. Arbalest had jumped, as if it were diving into a pool. It did a fucking belly flop! It fell into the crater that his arriving impact had caused. Less than a handful of seconds after the ball passed over its head, the Arm Slave made leaped out, a weak jump powered by one good leg. "What's _next?_ Is that goddamn girl going to lay down and play dead?!"

"Sir," Lucas intoned. "I believe you should pay attention to the surroundings." A blip was showing up on one of the movement sensors.

"Why?" Mr. Magnesium replied, sounding more than a bit sour. "There's nothing here that can really hurt me!" He included Arbalest in that estimation, along with the remaining mascots. They were no better than the puling pukes in the JSDF, who were still hanging back outside of the battle scene. What were they waiting for, a useless Type 96 or three? The other late pilot had already embarrassed any number of those. Shit, an M9 could break ECS unexpectedly, and he would still consider the match more than even in his favor!

"The movement is unpredictable," Lucas continued. "Camera replay shows the pink bear again."

"What are you," Mr. Magnesium said in a scalding tone. "My fucking _mother?_ No, my mother never cared enough about me to nag. And I don't have a fucking wife!" He shook his head in a scornful way. "What can a teabagger of a teddy bear do?" He hadn't seen how Gloomy Bear had taken a number of Groupies apart like they were made of tinfoil.

He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and tugged at one ear. He worked to control his breathing. He needed to stop thinking of the A.I. as a less than ideal manservant. No one could ever replace the original Lucas. He shouldn't resent the current namesakes, neither the computer system nor the Arm Slave itself. Indeed, if he was the hero, then they would be his Chariot and his Helper. Yes, the A.I. was his Morpheus… his Samwise Gangee…his Gerney Halleck… but fell a tiny bit short of being his Obi Wan Kenobi.

Furthermore, if he was the hero, he needed to cherish and protect the supernatural offerings that he had been gifted with. Some silly sot in a sausage suit had stolen one treasure, the Arm Slave's right antenna. He would have to make do with the other. That remaining apparatus was his very own One Ring… Dumbo's feather… and Excalibur. It was the equivalent Willow's magic acorns… or his Sith father's lightsaber. No. Scratch that last one. He didn't want anything to do with _that_ selfish uncaring piece of shit!

He reconnected the visual and audio connection, immediately taking joy in his opponent's worried look. "Is_ that_ all you can do?" He spoke to Kaname. "Run? Duck? Flop around like some baby harp seal, just before it gets bludgeoned by a commercial sealer?"

Each spring, the Canadian government gives commercial sealers the green light to shoot and bludgeon to death hundreds of thousands of baby harpseals. Canada banned the killing of whitecoat seal pups; but, they can still be killed after they lose their iconic white fur at just a few weeks of age. Most harp seals are killed when they are three weeks to three months of age. The Canadian government recognizes that young harp seals provide the most valuable pelts. Al was quiet for a while, bit his board lights were flashing at a greater pace. "Don't worry. I have a good use for _your _pelt."

Miyamoto was referring to his opponent's nether region. He took great offense at her being a young woman. No woman ever fought his advances, without paying _some kind_ of price, whether they were made in rutting romance… in one-sided lascivious lust… or in brazen and beauteous battle.

"Perhaps we should close the gap," Lucas suggested. "There would be less time for the opposing computer to judge speed and trajectory."

"What would be the sport in _that?!"_ Miyamoto snorted. Part of him thought the suggestion wise, seeing that there wasn't a limitless supply of energy. But, the sportsman in him vetoed the idea. Besides, in jai alai, front-court play can be downright homicidal. Erdoza, a famous player once slammed the ball into the front wall at close range; the rebound knocked out all his front teeth. Another player, Carlos de Anda, was beaned in the head; he was taken to the hospital and operated on to relieve pressure on his brain. Men whose name he had forgotten had died.

The pilot typed in a different set of commands, and then made adjustment to the wave guides again. His intent was clear. The next force ball would be something different. It would be larger, more amorphous, covering a much larger target area. He could use this shot to handicap the white A.S., before following up with a kill shot. "The world resists me and I resist the world!" He was playing the part of Grendel, thinking his opponent to be less than a man, and himself to be something more than human. He was enraged now. There would be no Beowulf. Nothing would stop him. "Tremble, Chidori. Beg me to stop. What can a girl possibly do?" Miyamoto laughed. "They are useful holes, and nothing more!"

Yes, his words fell on Kaname Chiodi ears. But, as someone else had a connection with the ARX-7's radio at the moment, that someone else heard the words as well. Those words, and the next.

"Ho?" Something caught Mr. Magnesium's attention. It was a small kitten. It had scrambled out into the wreckage, and was having a hard time navigating the broken ground. It stopped to look at the orange A.S. and hissed, arching its little back. **"Hah! **At least _you_ have a pair." He chuckled. Then, he caught sight of something else, something that had him scheming. "Heh heh heh. _You too!"_ A small boy had been running behind the kitten. He had stopped at the edge of the wreckage, hand at his mouth, when he caught sight of the Arm Slaves. He'd wobbled on those little legs of his, when the Orange machine crouched some, and held its hand in his direction. Still, he took a couple more steps towards the young cat, before he stopped, weak with fright. "Let's see if fucking Chidori has motherly instincts." He wasn't above a filthy grimy game of death. If a threat to the child would sucker that girl in, it would be a fruitful gambit.

If the boy was lucky, he'd live. If he was unlucky, he might well die. He was young, as he himself once had been. Perhaps he had cheerful friends, loving parents. He should hate the little runt, then. Or, perhaps he too had a tragic life, with a puny cat as his only soulmate. In a quick motion, he could relieve the little prince of that tragic destiny. "You may not be as strong as I was," he said, pondering. "You might not have a Lucas, like I once had."

He had made another critical and potentially fatal faux pa. He would see the results, soon enough. But, he had also managed to impede his own attack. His mind aflush with previously banished boyhood memories, he could not concentrate cleanly enough to form another force bullet.

For Buddhists, the Rose ceremony is an important one, a rite almost as important as the Ceremony for the Birth of Buddha. It nourishes the understanding love and gratitude for one's parents. He had been dragged to one such ceremony by a girl long since forgotten, thinking something to do with roses might eventually get him laid, if the girl was a hopeless romantic. The opening words had driven him into a rage, and he had left the rose-filled room unceremoniously: "Today the community has gathered to celebrate the Rose Ceremony. Please listen with a serene mind. The work of a father is like a great mountain. The loyalty and love of a mother are like clear clean spring water. We come together today to remember our parents who have given us to birth. Keep your father and mother in mind before the Buddha, Dharma, and the Sangha, and light up your awareness of love, gratitude, and happiness."

Just the same, that bullshit had given him the insight to his own happy place. His mantra borrowed from the general framework. "I would like to have my father crushed by a great mountain. I would love to have my mother drown in clear clean spring water. I will keep my parents in mind before Death and before Famine." Those were two of the Four Riders of the Apocalypse. They would do for his parents. He repeated his mantra again and again, keeping a keen eye on Arbalest.

The other two members of the foursome were meant for him. He would welcome them here today, in another of his coming-of-age parties:

"There's room for two more at the table…" he said. "…War and Conquest."

There was nothing wrong with a threesome.

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**EDGE OF TOHO JOSHICHUGAKKU KOTO SCHOOL REMNANTS**

Sousuke brought Arbalest to a halt.

He felt as if he had a heavy lump in his stomach, seeing that other Arm Slave's arm change shape. There was an intact antenna on that side. The changes could be a harbinger of change, or something fell.

"I don't like this, pal." He said to the A.I. "I have a _very_ bad feeling. Keep your eyes sharp. You know what I mean,"

"Feelings," Al said by way of response. "By that you mean Emotions. I have no such things. It is debatable whether or not they would be useful if I did. They are motivators, and I require no motivation. From an evolutionary standpoint, emotions are the agents of change and reaction, but I did not crawl out from the primordial ooze; I was created. Disgust is a quick, nasty response that humans experience when they encounter something that might make one sick. I will suffer no illness. Anger quickly transitions a man or woman from a placid state to one where he or she is ready to fight; fear prompt some people to flee from dangerous situations. _That,_ I admit might be helpful; but, the final decision would still rest in human hands. Sadness, on the other hand, can generate the resolve needed to change the direction of one's life. Emotions can also motivate one to continue what we're doing; the experience of joy is reportedly a pleasurable one, and one would be motivated to continue carrying out the behavior that led to the emotion. I am curious. Do you take joy in battle. Do you find victory pleasurable?"

Arbalest was piloted in a zig zagging fashion, changing speed randomly, and choosing directions seemingly at whim.

"I-" Sousuke closed 'his' eyes and waited for the unexpected verbal squall to blow over. If the engineers did not reverse this temporary verbosity, he would at least ask them to put in a limiter, something that kept a word count. Still, out of a sense of courtesy, he answered the question. "Maybe at some level" he said, without any sense of guilt or shame. "That was the world I found myself in as a child, not one of Cub Scout meetings and birthday parties. But, to be frank, I have never been in touch with my emotions. I-" He revived an old doubt he carried around his neck in place of an Albatross. "I may be more Golem than man."

"Golem," Al said. "In Jewish folklore, a golem is an animated anthropomorphic being that is magically created entirely from inanimate matter… usually clay or mud… the golem is a highly mutable metaphor with seemingly limitless symbolism. It can be victim or villain…Jew or non-Jew… man or woman…or sometimes both." Al was silent for a moment. He understood what a sore subject was. His pilot had schooled him on_ that_ subject a number of times. "Over the centuries that metaphor has been used to connote war, community, isolation, hope and despair." There was another pause. Panel lights changed their patterns of blinking and glowing. "I heard correctly, did I not, Sergeant. You said 'golem', and not 'Gollum', correct?"

Sousuke did not answer. If the new weapon was as powerful as that sling had been… and just as accurate… he wanted to be the one to dictate distance. He had to conjecture what traps and travails it might offer, and then come up with possible salves and solutions. It had been a long time since he had to fight an almost purely Defensive fight. Those were usually delaying actions. Luckily, there was little to no rust to knock off.

Having not be told to be quiet, the A.I. returned to its prior subject. "Coupled their ability to empathize with others, emotions also serve to maintain social bonds amongst humans. Our bond does not require emotions. Those feelings also serve as social signal, allowing humans to interact with others' needs in mind rather than their own, which is the basis of society. I exist outside of societal bounds."

"I meant keep a close lookout-" Sousuke replied, remembering what had started the latest oral onslaught. "-Even though you don't actually _have_ eyes. Well… uh…" He ran down. Arbalest did indeed have internal and external eye-equivalents.

"You were going to describe what I could scan," Al replied. "Regardless, do not become overly concerned with your timing. I estimate another thirty seconds to one minute before the next projectile can form. The intervals may even expand, if the enemy's Lambda Driver capacity begins to waver."

"Understood." Sousuke tried to press his lips tight together. Someone needed to limit his word count, too! But, he couldn't help himself. "The weapon may be uber-powerful, but it is inaccurate, and its rate of fire is low. I don't see why he chooses to keep using it even if he is out of ammunition. With Lambda Driver superiority, he could simply take us down, the way we took down our opponents in Hong Kong. Maybe he thinks we keep playing possum. Just the same, I hope he doesn't have anything else in that magic bag of his."

"Magic bag?" Al asked, before pausing. "You said bag, not lamp." There was another pause. "Are you saying he is like Felix the Cat?"

"_What?"_ Sousuke didn't see a connection.

"Felix the Cat was a fictional character," the A.I. stated. "He aired in a cartoon in the 50s. He had a magic bag that could turn into almost anything."

"That-" Sousuke was about to berate Al again, but was stopped by a memory. One day, walking into the Officer's restroom by mistake, weary after little sleep, he had seen Commander Mardukas brushing his teeth in yellow pajamas. The clothing was decorated by upright black cats, each holding some kind of luggage covered with small black'x''s. Was that somehow related?

"There is a recording of the theme song." Al played the recording he sourced from You Tube: 'Felix the cat… the wonderful wonderful cat… whenever he gets in a fix…he reaches into his bag of tricks…."

"Enough." Sousuke said.

_Another ball was forming._

"We do not have a Baggie," the A.I. remarked. "No. That is incorrect. You might. I do not." The silence lasted longer this time. The lights all went dark. When they came back on, the computer asked: "Is that machine better than me?"

"That answer will have to wait!"

_The next ball was rolling down the enemy's arm._

"Lambda Driver function is green," Al said.

Finally some good news!

"**Got it!"** Sousuke gripped the control levers tightly, focusing his inner mind as 'his' outer body went rigid. He had better be quick enough. He had better be exact enough. He had better hope that there was no way to get those blasted balls to home in on a target! _"Shield up!"_

"By your command. Confirmed," Al said. "Power holding. Fluctuations minimal." It held speech as its synthetic muscle equivalents kicked into full gear, jerking its body out of harm's way with not a second to spare. "Sizeable shield loss. Efficacy at sixty percent"

"It's a Codarl derivative, for crying out loud," Sousuke said, almost sounding as if the heavens were breaking the rules, somehow. "Their Lambda Drivers _never _work this consistently. Or this powerfully." Up to now, none of them had shown the tenacity and strength level that Arbalest's shields had shown. But, it was the mantra of the strong man. He should always suspect that someday a stronger man than him might show up. It served no purpose to ever think in a conceited fashion, or feel unbeatable. A stronger man, or an enormously better Arm Slave. "Maybe it is indeed a better machine."

"Then-" Al was interrupted.

"But, the importance of that truth would only go so far," Sousuke said. "There is a saying that you should keep in mind: It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." That quote came from Mark Twain.

"It would not be so bad, being the underdog." The A.I. stated.

"Huh?" Sousuke wondered how the mechanical mind thought, if thinking was the correct concept.

"In British and American culture, underdogs are highly regarded," Al noted. "This harkens to core Judeo-Christian parables such as the story of David and Goliath and also ancient British legends such as Robin Hood and King Arthur, and reflects the ideal behind the American dream, where someone who is poor and or weak can use hard work to achieve victory. Underdogs are most valorized in sporting culture, both in real events, such as the Miracle on Ice, and in popular culture depictions of sports, where the trope is omnipresent. The idea is so common that even when teams are evenly matched, spectators and commentators are drawn to establishing one side as the underdog."

"I think it would be best to exclude David and Goliath for the duration of this conflict," Sousuke said in a deadpan drawl. "For _damn_ sure!" He decided to keep the computer quiet for a while. Thinking back to Math class, he said: "Pal… solve this… zeta (s) equals zero… where zeta (s) equals one plus one-half to the s plus one third to the s plus one fourth to the s and so forth and so on. The hypothesis asserts that all _interesting_ solutions of the equation lie on a certain vertical straight line." That was the Riemann hypothesis**. **It has been checked for the first ten trillion solutions. However, it still remained unsolved.

If Al couldn't solve it, maybe many of his multiple task would be tied up for a tad. And, should he solve it… he would be rich from the prize money. Well, Mithril would be. As if it didn't have access to enough money! Smiling, Sousuke began running systems checks and thinking of combat solutions that he could glean from combat history.

"That is the Riemann hypothesis," the A.I. said soon enough, after a quick search. "I do not have enough computing power to solve that." After a pause, it resumed its exploration of the underdog topic. "This fact may hold promise," it claimed. "In some stories, the Fool is often an underdog if they are the main character. There are several distinct, although overlapping categories of fool as a stock character in creative works and folklore: simpleton fool, clever fool, and serendipitous fool. The apparent ineptitude leads to people underestimating their true abilities. They are able to win either through luck or hidden wisdom against a more powerful, establishment villain voice. WARNING. Projectile detected."

Yet another force bullet was on the fly.

"The common thread is fool," Sousuke noted. "I am not a fool. Kaname Chidori is not a fool. You yourself are not a fool." As he said that, he felt foolish. No, neglectful. He had been distracted. A tiny bit only, for sure. But, sometimes the slightest lack of battlefield clarity was enough to end things. The ball that the orange A.S. had just tossed was moving in a seemingly impossible manner, one which made its part difficult to judge. But, maybe being distracted was a godsend. Thinking quickly, he came up with a solution he normally would never use. Yes, he truly despised talking during battle; but, maybe his motormouth was a gift from a Guardian Angel. An angel named Kaname Chidori.

"EXTREME WARNING," Al said. "I cannot judge trajectory."

"Me either," Sousuke said through clenched teeth, as he ran as fast as the mismatched legs allowed. He had to do something that a human soldier might have had to do in one of the Great Wars… throw himself into a trench or a fox hole. He would worry about getting out safely, later. First order of business was to stay in one piece.

"IMPACT IMMINENT," the A.I. put out in its usually neutral voice at a louder volume.

"**Now!"** Sousuke put Arblaest in sudden powerful motion, hoping a leg didn't outright fail. He jumped the way a diver did off of a diving board, stretching the ARX-7's body flat, sailing head first down into the impact crater. They struck hard; but, the energy ball flew overhead, impacting who knows where on who knows what. _"We have to get out!"_ If the enemy could close the distance swiftly… or if more of those Arastols existed and were thrown into the fray… the battle… _and _his life… might end soon. **"Up!"** Swinging both A.S. arms upward and pushing as best as its legs allowed, he cleared the hole and stood at its lip, in a heightened sense of wariness.

Sousuke had left the visual and audio connection open.

"Is _that_ all you can do?" Mr. Magnesium spoke. "Run? Duck? Flop around like some baby harp seal, just before it gets bludgeoned by a commercial sealer?"

"Arbalesh." That was a different voice. Someone else had gained access, but on a private channel projected only to the speakers inside the pilot helmet. "Arbalesh, this is Hiroshi in Gloomy Bearsh." The words were somewhat slurred, and the voice was a bit weak. The way Sousuke set up the connection, the mascot had full access to Mr. Magnesium's words.

"This is Sa-" Sousuke almost said 'Sagara.' "This is Arbalest. I read you."

"Don't worry," Mr. Magnesium said slyly. "I have good use for _your_ pelt."

"Pelt, Sergeant?" Al asked.

"Never mind," Sousuke said sharply. "It is not a concept for virgins." He cleared his throat. It wasn't necessarily in his wheelhouse, either. He considered himself proper, despite the constant exposure to Mao and Weber. And, hewas still a sexual non-combatant. The young girls in the KGB training rooms had their virginity taken away early, as they were trained to be sexual weapons. The boys were trained so narrowly and so relentlessly, that they didn't have any concept of man and woman, except where tactical advantages might accrue. That had certainly warped his early concepts of socialization; but, his experiences in Mithril had helped him turn the corner and begin to make normal adjustments.

"Arbalest, what is your status?" Hiroshi asked. "I have taken on heavy damage; but Gloomy and I can still fight."

"My Lambda…." Sousuke started. "My defensive shields are down… and have been spot since being over-stressed… and I am out of ammunition. Thinking optimistically, I stand a chance if I regain shields and the offensive moves that come with them, and I can find a way to remove the source of those force bullets."

"The world resists me and I resist the world!" Mr. Magnesium said smugly. "Tremble, Chidori. Beg me to stop. What can a girl possibly do?" There was laughter. "They are useful holes, and nothing more!"

"I _really_ don't like thish guy," Hiroshi said in a voice so still, that it bristled with unimaginable hatred and anger. He was also obviously in great pain. "I teach my daughter to stay away from guys like that bozo." In his battle-narrowed perspective, he saw the man and his orange machine as a predator, as a possible threat to the child that he loved. Children in general meant a great deal to him. That's what made the Gloomy Bear touring worthwhile, in addition to the money that it brought in for his family.

"Ho?" Mr. Magnesium blurted. **"Hah!** At least _you_ have a pair," Souske had no idea what the enemy was talking about, but Gloomy's operator did.

"It's a kitten," Hiroshi reported, forcing his voice to sound more normal, if slow and painfully enunciated, literally. "I think I saw the same one back on Jindai High School grounds." There was a pause, and then a great sound of inrushing breath. "Oh no!" He had caught sight of something else. No, some_one_ else.

"Heh heh heh. _You too!"_ Mr. Magnesium sounded gleeful.

"There's a small boy chasing after the cat," Hiroshi said. A moment later, he growled and said "That orange bastard is pointing his hand at the boy. Cowardly cretin!"

"Let's see if fucking Chidori has motherly instincts," the enemy pilot said for dramatic effect, an ever-so-obvious emotional ploy.

"I don't want to sound heartless," Sousuke told Hiroshi. "But… while I have saved innocents before… it has only been when it would not put a greater number of lives at risk." He felt craven; but, not only did he have to make his _own_ position clear, but he also needed to impose his priorities on the other man.

"You-" Hiroshi bit back his first reply. "I understand. I don't like it. I hate it. But I understand. If you can maneuver into a point of advantage-" He continued, his voice thick with emotion. "-We could coordinate an attack. If that's impossible, I can move in on my own, if you serve as a distraction. These claws may not be adamantium; but, their alloy is top secret, just the same. I'm pretty certain that I can inflict serious damage. Your call."

"I would direct you to the remaining antenna," Sousuke offered. "That is the priority target that I mentioned earlier. Strike it when its vulnerable… and not when it might obliterate you… and your impact upon this fight would be the greatest it could possibly be."

"**Gotcha,"** Hiroshi said. _"Gotta go!_ Gloomy on patrol!" Buoyed by his hatred, and by his general sense of justice, he sounded as if he were truly alive, surfing a huge wave of adrenalin. He could help!

"It is good to have an ally," Al noted. "Also… it might prove useful to act foolish… even if you are not a fool."

"Explain," Sousuke ordered, somehwat intrigued. He wa often one to used subterfuge in battle, but not in his personal appearance or speech. Kaname Chidori sometimes felt otherwise, but her error was understandable.

"A continued search for the word underdog brought other data," the A.I. said. "Underdog was an American animated television series that ran from October 3, 1964, to 1973. The protagonist… an anthropomorphic dog superhero… had an alter-ego, like you. You pretend to be a student. Underdog pretended to be harmless silly-appearing Shoe Shine Boy. When villains threatened, Shoeshine Boy ducked into a telephone booth, where he transformed into the caped and costumed hero, destroying the booth in the process… also analogous to you… when his superpowers were activated. Underdog almost always spoke in rhyme. For example: When help is needed… I am not slow… It's hip-hip-hip… and away I go. Similarly…like you… the canine hero usually caused collateral damage. Whenever someone complained about the damage, Underdog replied: I am a hero who never fails… I cannot be bothered with such details."

"I am _not _going to say that," Sousuke harumphed the way that Kaname would. "I'm a Specialist!" Gloomy was quick. He searched a number of screens; but, he saw no sight of him. "Enough useless errata," he demanded. He should have stopped there. He would initially regret speaking further. "I do not see the fascination with cartoon characters. What's next, Bugs Bunny?"

"That would be apropos," Al responded. "Seeing your current garb. Also, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck and the Loony Tunes menagerie were all in skits pertaining to war. The Gremlin character would prove very useful, if we could convince it to cause the enemy craft to cease working."

"We'll leave gremlins… along with aliens… to the people at the laboratory," Sousuke said, making a face**. "Wait."** He had almost looked a gift horse in the mouth. There _had_ indeed been a lot of errata. It hadn't, however, been all useless. He took his inspiration from Shoe Shine Boy. From that character, and from a more iconic animal character. He had been remiss, having forgotten something crucial. "You spoke too much; but, there _was_ some wheat in all that chaff. Foolish, but not a fool." He had an idea. In retrospect, his attack on the enemy's pride during PE class had been foolish. But, the lessons he learned from those actions might be fruitful, now. Maybe he could play into the man's faulty view of the world, where a woman is a flighty and feeble thing.

"Do you have an idea?" Al queried. "Is there something that we can do. Do I possess a weapon I have been kept unaware of? We haven't been directly fighting for a time, now."

"_You_ possess weapons that I forgot about," Sousuke admitted. "_I _have deliveries to make. I don't know if the presence of a functioning Lambda Driver field will destroy them passively if the field moves over them… passes through them… or pushes them aside. If the enemy actively targets them, they would be vulnerable. That's why… like one of the sources of my inspiration… I have to keep my intentions secret."

"Them?" Al asked. "Destroy what? Sergeant, what was the inspiration?"

"I will give you a clue," Sousuke said. "Here comes Peter Cottontail… Hopping' down the bunny trail… Hippity, hoppity… Easter's on its way…Bringing' every girl and boy… Baskets full of Easter joy."

Sousuke Sagara, Sergeant of Mithril, was not a frivolous young man. When it came to military operations, he did not do things that were superfluous, since a single stray action could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Well, there is a first time for everything. Not certain why he did it… or why he had even even _considered _it for that matter… he put the bunny head back on.

"The Easter Bunny," the A.I. said. "But… your intensions are not obvious." There was a pause. "Perhaps they are not logical."

"Logical is not always the answer, pal." Sousuke wondered if it was cruel or even potentially harmful to tell a machine that. "That's exactly why my plan might work."

"I see," Al said. Unable to unravel the mystery any further, he revealed his mental notes. "Sergeant. You are a rabbit again. Will you be saying 'What's up, Doc?"

Sousuke ignored the computer, not even bothering to question whether or not that last question had been an attempt at a joke. He had to keep his mind on his task. The first thing he had to do, was tricky. He had to get Mr. Magnesium to focus on Arbalest, not on the surroundings. But, he had to make certain he focused on the A.S. proper, but _not_ on what the A.S. was doing.

He would have to act as if he were desperate. He would have to act like his courage was spent, as if his spirit had been completely broken. He would have to act as if the only thing on his mind was survival.

He would have to pilot precisely, and artfully, while appearing to do neither. His 'deliveries' needed to be placed where they were both potentially effective and actually undetected.

It was time to claw his way back into this fight.

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**CENTER OF TOHO GAKUENDAIGAKU CAMPUS**

There was destruction all around him.

Miyamoto scrolled through various view screens, at high and low power, while keeping one camera focused on the sobbing boy.

He saw collapsed apartment buildings… different schools with large chunks fallen in, or huge furrows passing through them… shrines that weren't looking very shriney anymore. Looking up, he saw numerous News helicopters, and almost wished that he had added the anti-armor/anti-air missile package in place of the Ascent gear. Outside of the damage areas, he could swear that nearly every police car in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police's garage must be parked at dramatic angles on every street within view. Flashing lights painted the sides of building, even where he couldn't spy the automobiles.

"So-" Kaname Chidori's voice came through loud and clear. "We see your true colors, once again. Big machine. Small man."

"Big machine, _bigger_ man!" Mr. Magnesium said by reflex. "You know it. What I don't know is if I make you sweat… or get you wet." He laughed. "You can't help yourself. Probably both."

"You laugh at your own jokes," the girl's voice claimed. "Because no one else will. I have to admit… I was scared… but there really wasn't anything to be frightened of. You can put street trash in the Taj Mahal and he is still street trash. As long as you do the thinking, and not your A.I., I have absolutely nothing to worry about. Eventually you will see your own shadow and run."

"I would not say those things if I were you!" Miyamoto had begun to seethe with rage again. "When next you see my shadow, I will be standing over you, preparing the killing blow. You will be begging for mercy, the way a poor and ugly whore begs for a fuck. I have nothing to fear from you!"

"**Baka!"** Kaname Chidori's voice said sharply. "You must be more scared of me than you were of the first and only girl who ever wanted to kiss you, your mother. When she gave you a bath, you were so scared to let her see your little pee pee. When she cut your hair, you were scared to tell her you wanted to grow it long, so you could pretend to be a girl, and the younger boys would stop teasing you."

"I… would… not… say… those… things… if… I… were… you…." Mr. Magnesium bit off each and every word, his vision going crimson, his breaths coming in spasmodic surges. He wondered why the other Arm Slave threw a small slab of asphalt away from Lucas.

"Is that why you were picking on a little boy?" The girl's voice practically dripped with disgust. "Because he reminded you of your tormentors? Because you couldn't you couldn't hide behind your mother's skirt, since she didn't think you worthy of even touching that skirt? Wait. Where did he go?" That last was said in sing song.

Sure enough, the boy had run off, finally frightened into movement by the flying fragments of blacktop.

"I… WOULD… NOT… SAY… THOSE… THINGS… IF… I… WERE… YOU…."

Miyamoto pushed a mute button when Lucas started to speak. He caught sight of his biomedical readout. Readings were off of the chart. So what! He was like Shishio Makoto. The better he fought, the hotter he got. He was not about to let a girl go all Himura on him. This would be more like Shishio facing off against Kaoru or Megumi. Yahiko at the very most.

"I know what you are," Kaname Chidori's voice said, fanning the flames. Ironically, she said "You are a Snowflake." Sousuke had heard that term and others from a Millennial mechanic stationed on Merida Island. He never guessed that the terms would ever come in useful.

Snowflake is a 2010s derogatory slang term for a person, implying that they have an inflated sense of uniqueness, an unwarranted sense of entitlement, or are overly-emotional, easily offended, and unable to deal with opposing opinions. It is popularly believed, but not proven, that each actual snowflake has a unique structure.

"Yes, it seems to fit," the girl continued. "You are a fragile as a snowflake. Unless… maybe… you are a Broflake, instead."

Broflake describes a commonly seen stereotype of the quintessentially conservative, heterosexual, white male, who despite all his privileges and advantages in life, is easily sensitive to any criticism or mockery. Unable to see outside of his own perspective, he takes everything personally, even when it's not about him specifically. Fragile like a snowflake, but with the mentality of a 'bro,' he denies or ignores reality and the very real struggles of other genders, races, and sexual identities."

"**Bastard!"** Mr. Magnesium said under his breath, slamming a toggle switch instead of pushing it, almost snapping it off. He was speaking to Lucas, who had actually overcome the muting, and had tried to speak again, before being 'double-muted'.

"Or maybe you are a…." The girl's voice stopped, followed by a pregnant pause. "Closet Incel. One who always goes against his own desires trying to hide the truth from others and mainly himself-"

Incel is a portmanteau of 'involuntary celibates', who are members of an online subculture who define themselves as unable to find a romantic or sexual partner despite desiring one, a state they describe as inceldom. Discussions in incel forums are often characterized by resentment, misanthropy, self-pity, self-loathing, misogyny, racism, a sense of entitlement to sex, and the endorsement of violence against sexually active people Some people think of the subculture as part of the online male supremacist ecosystem and include them in their list of hate groups.

"-Unless the truth you are hiding is that you are MGTOW!" Kaname Chidori's voice was filled with derision. The word had been pronounced mag-tow, rhyming with cow.

MGTOW stands for 'Men Going Their Own Way', an anti-feminist, mostly online community advocating for men to separate themselves from a society they see as harmful to men, and particularly to eschew heterosexual marriage and cohabitation. The community comprises websites and social media presences as part of what is more broadly termed the manosphere. MGTOWs posit that feminism has made women dangerous to men, and that male self-preservation requires dissociating completely from women, holding that modern women have been 'brainwashed' by feminism to believe 'they are right no matter what.' A woman will 'ride the cock carousel' with as many men as possible, most of whom will mistreat her and valorize her feminist claims of victimhood. When women do decide to settle for a man, he will be a passive 'beta-type,' whom she will boss around and target for his 'utility value'… financial assets and stability. The 'beta' may be aware of the risks of marriage, but still tries to hold out for a 'Disney-ending.' However, divorce proceedings will inevitably sway in a woman's favor, due to institutionalized female privilege. Some people see Japan's herbivore men serving as role models for MGTOW.

**I WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THOSE THINGS IF I WAS FUCKING YOU**

Miyamoto's shout hurt his own ears and caused a squealing bit of feedback on the communications line.

"_No… not if I was fucking you… if I _were_ you…."_

The pilot tried hard to bring his rage under control. With some success.

"In any case," the girl continued rubbing salt in the wound. "It's clear that you are _some_ kind of Soy Boy!"

Soy Boy is slang used to describe males who completely and utterly lack all necessary masculine qualities. This pathetic state is usually achieved by an over-indulgence of emasculating products and/or ideologies. The origin of the term derives from the negative effects that soy consumption has been proven to have on the male physique and libido. The average soy boy is a feminist, nonathletic, has never been in a fight, will probably marry the first girl that has sex with him, and likely reduces all his arguments to labeling the opposition as 'Nazis'.

"You're just trying to make me angry," Mr. Magnesium said. "You think that you can put me off of my game." He guffawed. "I admit, I have a bit of a temper. A rage issue. But that is nothing new. You are not the first one to fall into this trap." He began concentrating. He could feel the energies more clearly, now. Soon. Soon he would be ready to throw another ball. All thoughts of the little boy and his own boyhood had fled his mind. That idiot girl's plan had backfired.

_She had fine-tuned his mind._

"Right," Sousuke replied. "Like at the school. When I got the better of you, you blew your top, like a huge concrete cover blowing off of a Minuteman silo before launch. But then… at what should have been the point of your greatest strength… you went wee wee _weeee-eee-ee-e_, all of the way home."

"I was under orders," Miyamoto claimed calmly. He didn't say that he had been ordered to leave the school and students alone.

"I have heard soldiers say that many times," the girl began. "Before they retreated in fear and cowardice. But, you are good at dodging, are you not? Dodging? I have remembered another character that fits you. Another one played by Ben Stiller, by coincidence. White Goodman. In 'Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story."

For some reason, Mr. Magnesium thought he heard the girl make an aside, saying 'No, your mentioning underdogs had nothing to do with it."

"That-" Miyamoto couldn't get a word in.

"I can send you a strip-o-gram on your birthday. A man!" Sousuke laughed. "You can impress me with your best lines. 'We are the Globo Gym Cobras… and we will… we will… rock you!' 'Nobody makes me bleed my own blood!' _Please_ say if for me. 'This is it, La Loser. Are you ready for the hurricane'." He actual did a good imitation of White's voice. In the same voice he said "Or… or… 'You're going down like a sweet muffin'. Even better, say 'I was under orders. You're just trying to make me angry. You are not the first to fall into this trap'. It's just too rich. You two are twin brothers from different mothers."

"_You-"_ Mr. Magnesium had never completely realized that with him, there actually was useful anger, and useless anger, and that one could turn into the other at the drop of a hat. The 'useful' had gone 'useless' again.

"And, I hate to say it… especially since you keep claiming that you are a male model… but you _do _look fat in your A.S. suit." Sousuke saw the man's eyes widen, affronted, before they narrowed, incensed. "A couple more bon bons, and you are going to look like White at the end of the movie. You remember. Super morbid obese, rubbing pizza over his half naked body, while he stuffed himself with fried chicken and ice cream." He laughed again for effect. "Fuck you, Chuck Norris!"

"**Shut up!"** Mr. Magnesium slammed his hand down so hard on the control console, that he dislocated two fingers. The pain was sudden and intense. It acted like a switch, turning the useless anger into useful anger. If his brain was a net, his anger was a ping pong ball. It was a miracle that he wasn't mentally exhausted, now.

"But good old Ben did you one better," Sousuke said. "In 'Mystery Men'. He played Mister Furious, whose power comes from his boundless rage. You don't have to say this. You are living it." He imitated the movie character. "Rage… taking over…." He forced more uproarious laughter.

"Funny," Mr. Magnesium said, his voice icy calm and even. "I've seen that movie too." There was the sense of danger in his voice, like the blips on a seismometer before a volcano erupts. "You should have been more circumspect. You should _not_ have ascribed me the hero's name." He bit those words off. Instruments that sniff SO2, CO2 and other gases also can signal changes in the volcano. Those machines would be sounding alarms now. "Remember the final fight with Casanova Frankenstein. Remember what Roy said _then?"_ Roy was Mr. Furious's real name. "'No. No. No. Rage _really_ taking over'. You _do_ remember what happened next, don't you, Frankie?"

Roy had said 'Frak-you later, Frankenpuss' after he had just thrown Casanova Frankenstein into his Psycho-frakulator, a device which lethally bent reality. A strange cousin to the Lambda Driver, if you will.

With a quick and unsuspected sequence of ballet run-up moves, Miyamoto closed the distance between Lucas and the ARX-7 quicker than his opponent could possible expect. He also had a new bullet forming, the largest one yet, designed to cover the greatest surface area yet. This one was not destined to destroy with sheer force, but rather to cling in a prolonged fashion, eating away at force shield and structural armor alike. Playing the wise ass, he called out "La Loser… are you ready for the hurricane." He let fly. "You're going down like a sweet muffin."

The glowing force projectile started off small and round, but soon began expanding at a frightful rate, sending out questing pseudopods of energy, like an ameba, as it seemed to dart across the distance between the two ASes,

Miyamoto's anger flared again, even hotter if possible, when he overheard Kaname Chidori's commentary, likely to her A.I.:

"What the hell! It's like the Space Amoeba from 'The Immunity Syndrome.' What's next, the Planet Killer from 'The Doomsday Machine'?"

"It could be worse," the machine voice said in reply.

"How?" Kaname Chidori said. **"Move!** _Now!"_ There was a grunt of pain as the girl must have bitten her tongue or banged her head. She had piloted Arbalest in remarkable fashion, throwing it flat out on its side and pivoting impossibly around one extended arm. But it had been only half effective. The A.S.'s body remained intact. The energy clung to the ARX-7s'shrinking force shield, gnawing away at its meal.

"As I said, it could be worse," the machine resumed, not able to read the moment. "It could have been a Tribble." There was no time for anyone there to appreciate the magnitude of what had just happened. Having researched humor, much the way that its pilot had before, the A.I. had purposefully told a joke, even though its appreciation of humor was no proven to be no better than Data's or Spock's.

"_**M-O-T-H-E-R-F-U-C-K-!-!-!"**_

Mr. Magnesium's temples throbbed after that outcry. If there was one thing that he hated more than his mother and father… and more than any of the girls who he had forced to recognize his magnificence… it was Trekkies! But, seeing how Arbalest was very slowly getting up from a prone and vulnerable position, he decided to go with the flow. It was alright, if he did so in evil villainous mockery!

"It looks like your time playing at being an Arm Slave pilot is finally over, Miss Chidori." He blew her a kiss goodbye. "Unless somebody can beam you up!"

"Shield is down," Arbalest's voice told all who were tuned in. "Lambda Driver is off."

"Perfect," Mr. Magnesium said, dialing up another force bullet. This one would form much faster. It would be weaker and use up a lot more power, but that wouldn't matter if it were the kill shot! "Even if you can dodge a wrench… and you can dodge traffic… you won't be able to dodge this ball!

He smiled.

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**CENTER OF TOHO GAKUENDAIGAKU CAMPUS**

Hiroshi whispered "Hachiman."

Hachiman was the god of war, once worshipped by many warriors, many of whom referred to the deity as the God of the Eight Banners.

Gloomy's pilot wished that such a god might exist, since he could use all of the help that he could get. It seemed like an overly dramatic thing to do, entering the fray against an Arm Slave, even though he and his powered suit were not one of the main combatants. It was quite possible, that this might be his last act in life, a life he had dedicated to his little treasure. But, that ominous orange machine could cause the death of many daughters, of many of the people that those daughters loved most in their lives.

_He did a double take._

Were those doves that had just taken wing, flapping skyward after resting a bit on the rubble that was once the assembly room of the Elementary school? Doves were Hachiman's symbol. "Never mind," he grumped. They were flying like pigeons. He cursed under his breath, until he remembered that pigeons are the sign of Divinity at work. "I guess you guys help those who help themselves, _right?_ That probably mean you ignore those who rush into things without proper preparation."

He stepped behind a crumbled wall, certain that he wouldn't be seen there. Hopefully the big orange bastard wasn't using any kind of infrared imaging on the whole battleground. He went through a systems check yet again, not wanting to be surprised by some malfunction or weakness when he was on the move. He checked all pneumatic systems, happy with the hydraulic pressure. No serious leaks! Muscle strength was down, but he dialed in the auxiliary strands, and they made up the difference and then some. Too much strength and too much speed would sap his power too quickly. He didn't have all that much battery charge left, and his miniaturized salt reactor would go critical if he pushed it too far.

_That was another pilfered technology, a small walking nuclear bomb, controlled of course._

Gloomy Bear moved each limb, as Hiroshi tested each joint, large and small. He sliced a tossed brick cleanly in half. He did the same thing to a thick metal pipe. The claws were still hella-sharp. He quickly did some calculations in his head, and then ran through a list of vocabulary words he had read in a magazine a few days ago. It only made sense to check his _own _systems too, after all. He seemed mentally fit. Physically? He had no serious handicaps, lucky to be in a powered exoskeleton. He couldn't see anything but a red haze out of his nearly shut eye, but his unobstructed eye saw fine. He had no one in his corner to cut him. But that was alright… there were no judges or referees.

_He whispered the name of his daughter._

Let's work out that cramp!" Hiroshi felt tightness in one leg. By coincidence, Gloomy's same leg had some pieces of metal that were rubbing against one another now. He moved the powered suit from a stroll to a jog to a run. "Let's be prepared. Let's find our limits." His steps… his strength in jumping… the exact placement of his landings… the most precise movements… everything was crucial. He knew exactly what he was wagering in the coming gamble. He was throwing the dice, with everything on the line, in a play that Cho-han playing bakuto and yakusa would shy away from.

Hiroshi hadn't been listening to the audio feed from Arbalest, even though he could still hear what Sagara heard. For some reason he heard one snippet: "No. No. No. Rage _really_ taking over. You _do_ remember what happened next, don't you, Frankie?" He almost made a piloting error. What the fuck? Was that sick bastard in the enemy machine talking Dodgeball, now? What _next?_

"I'm betting on Chō," he said, sighting the orange A.S. and approaching it from behind, leaping great distances with each purposeful stride. The dice game is a simple one. The total of two rolled dice would be even… Chō… or odd… Han. He would either live… or die. There was no strategy to the gambling game. There was no trick to his attack. He would get in fast and strike hard, succeeding wonderfully or failing miserably. If he failed and had a second chance, then he would take it. He heard another sally, silly in word, but ominous in intent: "La Loser… are you ready for the hurricane." Followed by "You're going down like a sweet muffin."

"**Geez!"** He bit his lip. _"Pay attention!"_ He would need to see every opportunity that came to light. He would need to act quickly, with great precision. Trying to keep focused on his target, he couldn't help but notice the fierce flung ball. The glowing projectile started off small and round, but soon began expanding at a frightful rate, sending out questing pseudopods of energy, like an ameba, as it seemed to dart across the distance between the two ASes,

The girl piloted Arbalest in remarkable fashion, throwing it flat out on its side and pivoting impossibly around one extended arm. But it had been only half effective. The A.S.'s body remained intact. The energy clung to the ARX-7s'shrinking force shield, gnawing away at its meal. He focused on exchange between pilots again.

"Shield is down," the machine voice told all who were tuned in. "Lambda Driver is off."

"Perfect," Mr. Magnesium said, dialing up another force bullet.

Hearing the girl and the young man, Hiroshi threw his figurative dice under the bowl of battle. Soon enough, the bowl would be lifted, and he would find out if he hit his mark, or if his mark hit him. He leaped and landed upon the ankle flare of the A.S., immediately bounding upward again, pushing off of the inner portion of the right elbow joint. He had gotten this close, so one thing was certain, the machine did not have any form of force shield up, either because it didn't see a need for one at that time in the battle… it had power shunted to the antenna apparatus… or the device responsible for the protective layer was no longer operating. Regardless, his trajectory should carry him right between the antenna and the stub of the missing antenna, like a football between the uprights.

_It did!_

But, he was moving too quickly and too much to the center. He was going to miss and streak past. Cursing, he struck the claws of one paw out. They snagged on the barrel of the Gatling gun. Swinging around, he took swipes at that weapon, reducing it to falling and bouncing barrels. He then sprang at his target again, aiming for the dead center of the stalk, dragging claws slowing his speed and allowing him to pivot precisely. Scrabbling with his feet to gain traction, he kicked one bear heel strong against the highest point of the enemy, causing a set of bottom claws to extrude. He quite expected a giant hand to reach up and swat him away like a bug.

_The globe at the tip of the antenna had begun to glow._

"**Shit!"** Hiroshi saw that thing as a bug zapper. He didn't want to end up charred and smoking, falling to the ground. He pushed hard, took a giant step, and swung for the fences with his good claw. He hit, slicing a large piece of metal out of the antenna. _"Huzzah!"_ It was still intact. He felt a tingle, as if he was touching a charged-up Van Der Graaf generator. **"Come on!"** He swung again like a lumberjack, aiming at the place he had cut before. He struck many times in three blinks of an eye.

_Shing Shing Shing Shing Shing_ Swanggg-gg-g THWOMP _Shissss-sss-ss-sh_ **zink**

"Winner winner chicken dinner!" Hiroshi had done it. All five claws had broken off, but not before the job was done. The remaining antenna had been severed. A fountain of sparks erupted beneath him as he took one more step, intending to jump to the ground.

The huge orange hand had been brought up in a slapping motion, but Miyamoto had been too late. Before he even knew the result of the unexpected assault, the pilot had struck the attacker, his swat turning into a grab. At the last instant, he saw pink and deduced who the damn bug was. He had flicked that flea far away once, and the blood-sucking bastard had come back to bite at him again.

_He would crush the life out of it._

"_**Gahhhh-hhh-hh-h!"**_ Hiroshi felt his motion slowing, and things grew instantly dark. He didn't have time to realize what had happened before the design of his suit saved his bacon. The exoskeleton was strong enough to withstand the initial vice grip grasp, and the fabric of the costume slipped against the inner framework's smooth metal. For that moment in time, Gloomy Bear was like a water snake, those silly slick water-filled toys that slide out of a child's grip when he or she closes his or her hands on it.

"**Damn it all to hell!"** That voice came over loud and clear on Gloomy's audio feed. The A.S. pilot was staring at a pink bear costume that had slid off of the underlying skeleton, the way that a snake might stare at the tail that broke off of the lizard it had bitten, allowing the meal to escape and grow a new tail. The voice grew in volume, and exploded in anger, when another voice spoke up. "Sir, the left antenna is gone" was immediately followed by _**"F-U-C-K-!-!-!"**_

Hiroshi had the powered framework tuck in like a ball and rolled into his impact with the ground. He wobbled sideways for a while until the gyroscopic balancing system brought him upright in time. He saw the A.S. spinning in his direction, sunlight shining off the razor-sharp edge of a giant hooked blade. The arm began to swing downward.

FFFFFFWWWW-WWW-WW-W-A-NNNN-NNN-NN-N-N-GGGG-GGG-GG-G

That sound echoed across ten city blocks, as if a huge hammer had struck and even larger bell. Unbeknownst to Hiroshi or Mr. Magnesium, Arbalest had gotten off a strike. No, it was not a last reserve shot from the 57mm. With Arbalest rising up on its knees, Sousuke had used the ARX-7s hand to grip a large piece of cement and tangled steel… the remnants of a school stairwell… and fling it sidearm with everything the downed A.S. had. It had been a last gasp effort to hit the antenna. There was no antenna left to hit. It had crashed into the back of Lucas just the same.

"**THAT'S EEEEE-EEEE-EEE-EE-E-N-U-FFFFF-FFFF-FFF-FF-F-!"**

It sounded as if the orange Arm Slave pilot was going ballistic. The moment of respite had been fleeting, but Hiroshi made the most of it. With the covering gone, his craft looked a lot like a bear-shaped Terminator built from metal rods and bars. He zigged at just the right moment. The orange A.S. had kicked a large chunk of dislodged masonry in his direction. It passed so close, that he could see a child's chalk drawing decorating the bricks. He zagged, as the impromptu projectile bounced, rolled, and then split into many smaller fragments. At first, his mind thought only of escape. But, as his conscious thoughts returned, he tried to think of another way he could be useful. The claws on Gloomy's hands were either gone or useless. The ones on his one foot were bent and causing him to run with an awkward gait. Other than serving as a decoy, he had nothing left.

_Wrong._

He remembered something. He had not come to the landing zone empty-handed. He had brought along the Spike ATGM. It would be sitting where he left it, just over that brick wall!

The Israeli-designed Spike missile is widely becoming the primary medium infantry anti-tank asset for most of Europe and was used by many nations beyond that continent. It was also under serious consideration for use by the U.S. Army and the British Joint Rapid Reaction Force. Spike is a fire-and-forget missile with lock-on before launch and automatic self-guidance. The missile is equipped with an imaging infrared seeker and uses a tandem warhead consisting of two shaped charges: a precursor warhead to detonate any explosive reactive armor, and a primary warhead to penetrate the underlying armor

Hiroshi wasn't paranoid. He had good reason to look back the way he had come. He sighed a long sigh of relief, punctuated with a gasp, feeling a sharp pain in his ribs when he twisted.

_Fortunately, the orange A.S. was no longer looking in his direction._

"You're up," he said to the girl. He was the bit player, although one who had struck a telling blow. Kaname Chidori, whose name he had sworn to keep secret, would carry the fight, or lose it.

It was like he had just slapped the hand of his partner in a tag-team pro-wrestling match.

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**EDGE OF THE KOSAIJI TEMPLE**

There was a loud shout.

Sousuke had called out victoriously, even though it had been Gloomy who had made the successful attack.

"And they say lightning never strikes the same place twice," he added. First the incredibly lucky shot from the recoilless rifle, and now an amazing action sequence that any anime would be proud to call its own!

"Why do you say that?" Al asked. Of course, the idiom means 'Something that's very extraordinary and unlikely to happen will never happen to the same person twice'. The A.I. was in the process of scanning through multiple articles that said that not only could lightning strike multiple times during a given lightning flash, as researchers seen on more than one occasion, but also that lightning from different storms can strike the same location separated by days, months or years.

"That-" Sousuke didn't want to have to deal with another verbal barrage, after being lucky enough to escape the jai alai barrage relatively unscathed up until that point. "That's because after lightning strikes, the place won't be the same anymore." That was a bullshit answer; but, it was the best that he could do.

'-" There was no response. Instead, the A.I. revisited a prior topic. "Sergeant, was _that_ a deus ex machina? We were immobile. Our shield was down. The enemy likely would not have missed."

"No," Sousuke said. "An attack from us may have succeeded if Gloomy's had not. Deus ex Machina are used to resolve a situation portrayed as _unsolvable or hopeless_. Things had not reached that level yet."

"I-" Al stopped after a single word. No doubt he was analyzing the true meaning of unsolvable and hopeless, and how they would apply to the past few minutes. Because he could multi-task, he also took note of what the ARX-7's hands and arms were doing. Sousuke was directing those appendages to remove grenades from the 'belt', and to toss them at desired locations. "Deus ex Machina are external to the characters and their choices throughout the story. The solution comes from a character with small or non-existent influence on the plot until that point, or from random chance from nature or karma."

"Right. Now we will-" Sousuke was cut off.

"The concept of desu ex machina eventually came back into vogue during the early years of the film industry thanks to The Hays Code." Al noted. "Villains, and anyone else who didn't toe the moral line, were absolutely not allowed to get away with their crimes. But, more often than not, the villains were much more interesting than the heroes. The solution was to let the bad guys be awesome for the duration of the movie, and then drop a bridge on them in the last five minutes. Something like that."

"That had to do with movies and with fiction." Sousuke sounded sour. "This is not fiction. Like I was saying-"

"But what if there is a God, and God is writing the script." Al was growing philosophical. "He may have written Himself into a corner. Then again… if God is perfect, he should never write himself into a corner-"

"**SHUT UP!"**

There was no time for a machine to start questioning the meaning of life! Not with things as hairy as they had been. Also, the whole thing with Al Junior was still disconcerting. He didn't like the concept of Deus **est** machima in real life. It was okay in sci-fi books and movies. 'God is the machine' type plot lines had A.I. growing super powerful, and playing God. In some stories, the machine 'God' helps humanity. But, most writers end up with mankind being enslaved or destroyed.

_In his case, the A.I. was just smart enough to be a royal pain in the ass!_

The A.I. was not offended. It simply found its next question. "Sergeant, why are you throwing away the grenades?" It was unaware of the set-up, as its systems were not used in the priming of the weapons. A true child of technology, Sousuke had set things up through apps on his smart-phone. "There have been no explosions."

"I'm setting up an Easter Egg Hunt for our guest," Sousuke replied. "Hippity, hoppity."

"An egg hunt is a game during which decorated eggs or Easter eggs are hidden for children to find," Al read off of Wikipedia. "Real hard-boiled eggs, which are typically dyed or painted, artificial eggs made of plastic filled with chocolate or candies, or foil-wrapped egg-shaped chocolates of various sizes are hidden in various places. The game is often played outdoors, but can also be played indoors. The children typically collect the eggs in a basket. When the hunt is over, prizes may be given out for various achievements, such as the largest number of eggs collected, for the largest or smallest egg, for the most eggs of a specific color. Eggs are placed with varying degree of concealment, to accommodate children of varying ages and development levels. In South German folk traditions it was customary to add extra obstacles to the game by placing them into hard-to reach places among nettles or thorns."

"_Indeed,"_ Sousuke said. "In this case, the 'eggs' have been programmed to ignore us, as they can read a signal I am transmitting. Any other mobile object larger than armored car passing by them will set off the explosive. Hopefully, without any shielding from the Lambda Driver. Even so, if the eggs are not destroyed by a pushing field… and can somehow get inside a field _before _they explode… such a field may not prevent success."

"That sounds more like an egg fight where-" Al had been accessing multiple search engines. Again.

"**SHUT… UP…."** Sousuke snapped. "Just… _shut_… it…." He wondered how many pet owners would get rid of their prized Macaw if the bird didn't just repeat things, but instead kept talking and talking and talking.

"Sergeant… query." The A.I. began. "There is a medical kit on board. Does it contain tranquilizers?" The machine did not correctly interpret the growling sound it heard in response. "Are there medical remedies for Premenstrual Syndrome, in case-"

"The engineer who gave you a tune up," Sousuke said. "I'm going to steal some of Sergeant Major Mao's favorite beer and hide it in _his_ locker. I'll then leave an anonymous note telling her where to find the beer."

"That does not compute," Al replied. "The engineer is an ally."

For some reason, hearing a robotic brain say 'That does not compute' had Sousuke thinking of Lost In Space, the charming TV series, not the horrendous movie. He almost expected to have Arbalest wave its arms, and have Al say 'Danger Will Robinson.' Thinking of that Robot, he felt a bit guilty yelling at Al, even though the computer had no feelings. The Robot… just like the Tin Woodsman… had a good 'heart,' so to speak, even if they didn't actually have that organ.

"Sorry for yelling," Sousuke said. "And I know what you are going to say. I don't have any need to apologize. I do. I just _do._ Leave it at that." He had an inkling what some parents must feel like with overly inquisitive children, if there really is such a thing, and with those whose children's actions stretch their patience well beyond the breaking point. But, he realized that a parent should still act like the adult, no matter what happens.

"The orange Arm Slave is now running towards our position, Sergeant." Al showed the location of the two machines on a screen. "I would have a more accurate representation if we had airborne drones, like the enemy once did." There was a pause. "Shouldn't we be running too, so that our intentions are not discovered before they come to fruition? Wouldn't it be better to keep a greater separation, while our Lambda Driver is down, and his is operational?"

Sousuke had shot down Lucas's drones early in the fight. There could be no subterfuge or surprise with things like those buzzing around. Ho wcome Amalgam made use of such advanced strategies while Mithril sort of dragged their feet? That was a sore subject in general terms. Why did Mithril have one Lambda Driver, while the other guys had them seeming falling out of trees?

"Those are good questions, pal." Sousuke had considered those elements, but was more concerned about doing a credible job. Now was no time to be sloppy. Grenade placement was an art in this situation, and you can't rush art. Not only did he want to inflict maximum possible damage, he wanted to keep the enemy guessing, especially when that enemy seemed to be emotionally labile. "But, my answer is this: slow and steady wins the race."

"Sergeant?" The loquacious A.I. asked a very brief question.

"Later… after the battle is over… access Aesop," Sousuke said. "One of his fables was titled 'The Tortoise and the Hare'. In that story, a hare makes fun of a tortoise for being slow. The tortoise then challenges the hare to a race. Amused by the idea, the hare accepts, believing there is no way he could possibly lose to a sluggish turtle. With the course set and ready to go, the race begins and the hare quickly darts down the path, leaving his fellow green contender in the dust."

"But, in this case you are the hare…." Al started. "No. I misrepresented you. You are merely dressed as a hare. I apologize."

Sousuke's eyes went wide. Was the A.I. truly feeling regret or shame, or was it adapting, trying to assimilate social norms? Was it merely a pint-sized supercomputer playing the parrot? Either way, the response was interesting. But, being the practical person he was, he still wasn't certain if different was better, when life was on the line, and his calculations in the art of war could be thrown off by unexpected things.

"It's not long before the hare builds a strong lead," Sousuke continued, without chiding the A.I. or telling it that there really was no need to apologize. "Being so far ahead, he believes that the tortoise will never catch up. In fact, the hare feels so confident of the lead he has that he decides to take a nap! Meanwhile, the tortoise continues plodding along, running at a slow and steady pace until he eventually catches up and even passes the napping hare. Shortly after, the hare wakes up only to see the tortoise moments away from finishing the race. He desperately tries to catch up by running as fast as he can, but it's too late, the tortoise crosses the finish line and wins the whole thing. That's pretty much the story. The tortoise ran all the way to the finish, and even though he was slow, he was persistent. Thus, it's believed that the moral of the story is 'slow and steady wins the race'."

"I see," Al said. "That is for your benefit, but also the enemy's detriment, am I correct? It is a long-standing truth throughout history that patience often goes against human instincts. Cato the Elder once said that 'Of human virtues, patience is most great'. The enemy's patience wavers. Perhaps he has been the one who has been overconfident."

"Affirmative," Sousuke said. "Also, some animals predatory instincts kick in strongest when another animal runs and is seen as prey. When the chips are down, Mr. Magnesium may become a mindless animal, without the inherent instincts that a good predator possesses."

"I will not ask about chips being down." Al said. He would find it himself. After the battle.

"Thank you," Sousuke said.

"Sergeant, before Hong Kong, we had a problem." The A.I. said.

"Yes," Sousuke replied. "But to be honest, it wasn't really our problem. It was _my_ problem. But, like I told you before, our problem is gone."

"So is our Lambda Driver." Al stated. "But the enemy still has one." There was a pause. "Can he have a problem, too."

"Ah." Sousuke actually smiled. It was as if Al was his bright son, who had brought home an A-plus on his big essay. "Maybe he can. Maybe we can help." He had tried psych methods to get Miyamoto off of his game. What if he could find some way by luck or by design to drive a mental wedge between him and his Lambda Driver, or him and his own A.I.?

***B-O-O-M***

There was a loud explosion. The rear-view monitor showed a huge cloud of smoke and flying soil. The orange A.S. could then be seen running out of that cloud, a sooty scorch mark on one leg. The enemy picked up speed, changing course to match Arbalest's new change in direction, still moving with a dancer's grace.

_Sometimes big motions are a bad practice._

***B-O-O-M***

"And so it begins," Sousuke said.

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_Yes. Another long battle chapter. But, you can feel relieved. There's another chapter of battle next; but, it's shorter._


	21. Chapter 21

_Another chapter of battle? Aren't A.S. battles in the FMP canon over relatively quickly? Well, if you took out all of the thoughts and exposition, this would go a lot more quickly, too! But, for me, where's the fun in that?! Writing for me is about the journey, not the destination. And, after taking a long vacation away from FanFics, I owe my muse a lot of favors…._

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**CENTER OF TOHO GAKUENDAIGAKU SENGAWA CAMPUS**

The helmet ricocheted off of the front viewscreen.

It then bounced off of the leading edge of the control console, and lay spinning on the scant floor space.

Like aircraft pilots who crack up, jai alai players are rushed back into action as soon as they are ambulatory, to reduce the chance of a permanent phobia. There has never been a quitter in the pro game or one who permitted cowardice to shade his play. One might conclude that all such tendencies to be chicken would long since have been bred out of the players in the frontons of the Basque country, else they would not be playing professionally at all.

Miyamoto was not a jai alai player. He simply fashioned himself to be cut from the same cloth. He was not a quitter. No cowardice would shade his play. He would never chicken out. That wasn't his problem. Phobias were no concern.

_That's not to say he didn't have more than his share of troublesome mental tendencies. _

Competition awoke the demon within him. He had a pathologic need to win. Fear of defeat spawned anger. Any hint of humiliation triggered cravings for blood. Signs of confrontation or defiance fanned those flames. When women were added to the equation, the flame became a bonfire.

"**A fucking bear!"** In the rear viewscreen, Gloomy Bear's figure could be seen speeding from view. "A fucking _pink_ bear." He cursed a particularly foul oath. Not because of the bear, but because he didn't have something else that he could throw. Seeing that one screen was flashing red, he switched off the mute function. "Why didn't you warn me of that attack!" How he hated that bear! Not only had it taken the last remaining antenna, it had also led a large number of his Groupies into defeat like a decoy duck or the Pied Piper, before they could accomplish anything tryly useful. "But… unlike the girl… despite the disadvantage between his machine against mine… he took it down my throat". Wait, he thought. Change those words! They did _not _sound quite right between men.

_He could accept that crippling attack more readily, because it had come from a man._

"My vocal system was blanked," Lucas replied. "And… if you recall… previously, I did recommend a sense of increased awareness."

"You did not recommend it strongly enough," Mr. Magnesium said, projecting his own guilt upon Lucas. "And you did not make _any _effort to dodge that rock!" That too was a false accusation, as the A.I. was not programmed to usurp control of body movement short of imminent demise. **"A fucking rock!"** His anger level grew in leaps and bounds.

Today, he had been shot at, knifed, and fought with Lambda Driver force… but, it was a chunk of broken building that took things to next level and removed one more vestige of calm and clear thought. More childhood trauma was to blame. When he was younger, other children called him 'queer' and worse names, because he did ballet. A group of them had thrown rocks as they mocked him. Thrown to hurt. And they _had_ hurt. Hurt, and caused him to bleed. Seeing his own blood on his hands had caused a great chill to come over him. Afterwards, he had run to Lucas, who cradled him like a mother would, and then taught him the reins to revenge, the way that a father would.

_That crass and cowardly girl __had__to__ be made to pay for that indignation._

Something caught his eye again. This time he forced himself to focus on it. "Why the hell is that screen flashing red?"

"The Palladium reactor had gone into a state of parasitic flux," Lucas replied.

"Speak in _people talk,_ next time!" Miyamoto responded with increased heat.

"Yes, sir." Lucas said. On the main view screen, he brought up a schematic, shifting forward view of the A.S. and tracking graph of Arbalest to smaller screens. "Black Technology provided a means to utilize the beta decay of certain Palladium isotopes to form an electric circuit between the isotopes. Electrons project outward from the core and gamma rays project inward from the outer toroid. Massive electrostatic potential develops as a result, and the electron movement plays a major role in the generation of enormous voltage and current. That functions ceases when the Palladium is completely consumed.

"You point is?" Mr. Magnesium scratched the back of his head and sighed. He had a bad case of helmet hair.

"Our reactor has a second element," Lucas continued. "Another gift of Black Technology. That second-gen element undergoes gamma ray-mediated beta decay like Palladium does. During usual usage, the two elements work in tandem, complimenting one another. When the system is put under unusual strain… for example, in the creation of numerous force projectiles… the synergy becomes dysergy. The Lambda Driver will cease being robust and running in routine fashion. It may fail entirely. Electrostatic forces may escape confinement and degrade my functioning, and yours."

"**Fuck!"** Miyamoto spat. _"Now_ you tell me!"

"The head engineer… the one who stopped logging in… he told you," Lucas said, unable to be accusatory. He had no idea that the aforementioned man had met an unfortunate 'accident.' "Fortunately, he also suggested a possible cure."

"Don't keep me waiting," the pilot grumped.

"It involves something akin to cadence braking." Lucas said.

"_Huh?"_ Mr. Magnesium fought down his growing irritation. "Braking? You mean, stop using the Lambda Driver?" _Damn!_ That would be a major blow job, if Arbalest managed to get its Lambda Driver stabilized again.

"Negative," Lucas replied. "Cadence braking or stutter braking is a driving technique that involves pumping the brake pedal and is used to allow a car to both steer and brake on a slippery surface. It is used to effect an emergency stop where traction is limited to reduce the effect of skidding from road wheels locking up under braking. For most drivers of modern cars, it has been entirely superseded by ABS; however it is still a valuable skill for drivers of non-ABS equipped vehicles such as classic cars or economy cars."

"Pretend that I don't understand a fucking thing that you just said," Miyamoto said sourly.

"Constant or strong usage of the Lambda Driver will worsen the dysergy and cause critical systems failure.," Lucas said. "However… rapid and repeated use… for short bursts… will bring back greater levels of synergy, and thus allow prolonged and powerful usage again." There was a pause. "As long as we do not exhaust our fuel supply."

"Rapid… repeated….: Mr. Magnesium frowned. "Short bursts… _how?"_ He had to puzzle that out; but, the more his anger and irritation grew, the less synergy he would have between the different factions of his mind. _"That_ problem needs to be solved, first."

"Sir?" Lucas knew from intonation that the pilot was referring to another issue.

"My negative reactions have been cycling stronger and more frequently," Miyamoto noted. 'This has happened before. The Psy-… the people I spoke with called it kindling, or sensitization. I have become increasing sensitive to triggers. Like the reactor, the parts of my mind suffer dysergy. That has pushed both my mental and physical endurance to the brink. Aside from over-reaction to stimuli, I suffer racing thoughts… impulsivity… and reckless behavior." Psychiatrists had also mentioned unrealistic confidence… poor judgement… delusions of grandeur… and delusions… even psychosis. He had rejected their claims. _He _knew himself better than _they_ did. He did not need their counselling, or their drugs. "But there is no way I can do cadence thinking!" He needed something that could work without much thought.

He knew that inner discipline keeps the new breed of jai alai player from letting his emotions show on the court. In the old days certain players would flail their cestas on the floor and pound the wall and shout 'Dios!' after blowing a shot. But managers discouraged that. 'It gets too much like the way wrestlers act…' some would say, "…And that's the last image in the world we need.' Nowadays a player will miss a shot, smile sportingly while the crowd screams, 'Bruta! bruta!' and hurry to the privacy of the players' room to exact revenge on himself. But, he was _not _a jai alai player. And, he was an overstuffed storehouse of accumulated anger. His heart and mind were filled with giant barrels of black powder, and his temper was a bottomless box of red-tipped matches. His spirit and will kept getting buffeted by the explosions, and he needed water to throw on the wick

"There may be another avenue to explore," Lucas remarked. "I have initiated a self-stabilizing procedure. I am bombarding the reaction chamber with radio frequency waves, and creating fluctuations in temperature. This will prevent magnetic islands… bubble-like structures that form in the plasma… from forming and triggering disruptive events that halt fusion reactions. That will aid in the stabilization."

"Radio frequency waves…" Miyamoto's eyes went wide. _Bombardment! Radio!_ He thought of something. A memory. One that posited a possible solution. "I was once bombarded by radio… and at different temperatures." Indeed, he _had_ been. His love of music began and ended with Classical music, because of its association with ballet. He could also tolerate opera, but that was about it. While he had been on the island, and was fighting matches in gladiatorial type training, the pit bosses at the arena always played music at the matches.

_But not civilized music! _

They played rock. But not just any rock! They had a hard on for heavy metal and all of its bastard children. That had given him headaches, and a hatred for those songs. But, the anger he had felt proved useful. It wasn't explosive and self-destructive fire. It was heat that tempered steel and allowed him to grind his edges razor sharp. In that state, insults and physical pain did not make his fury yo-yo, and confrontation did not trigger disruptive thoughts that befouled his planning and scheming. The music hurt his brain; but, he ended up being the one doing the hurting in the ring.

"Do you wish for me to turn the waves on you rather than the chamber?" Lucas accessed medical texts, coming to an alarming conclusion.

"No, that would be kinder." Mr. Magnesium quipped. "Access iTunes. Build a play list from…." He stopped to think. What genre? Nu metal? _Hell, no!_ That would be the end of him. Death Metal? No, too cliché. Power metal? No, too fast, not enough mental grip. _Right!_ He knew the obvious answer. "…The following Thrash Metal bands: Annihilator… Dark Angel… Exhorder… Forbidden… Kreator… Lȧȧz Rockit… Nuclear Assault…." He continued with the list for a minute or so longer while tracking Arbalest. "Play the songs now. Jukebox fashion."

"Initiating your command," Lucas said. A song began playing at a reasonable volume level. It was "Most Dangerous Game" by Lȧȧz Rockit:

_On a journey to another land  
The hunters sailed into the night  
Telling tales of a mystery  
The warm mist blackened out the light  
A pirate  
A madman  
So evil no one had seen  
And lived to tell  
As the shore drew near the silence broke  
A sound the hunter knew so well  
So well  
The chosen  
Had Fallen  
To water  
One place to go  
One mystery_

_He swam on to the isle  
With a sense of destiny  
Deja'vu filled his mind  
With a kind of lunacy  
A castle on a cliff  
Where shadows seemed to be alive  
He held on to his heart  
And wondered if he would survive_

_He's got to play the most  
Dangerous game  
His time to play the most  
Dangerous game_

The aggression was palpable, and the tempo fast, but not too speedy. There were quick percussive beats and low-register guitar riffs, overlaid with shredding-style lead lead work. There was singing, and it was by no means operatic. Why did the civilized world allow something like that to even exist? As far as he was concerned, Tipper Gore should be enshrined right next to Joan of Arc! That, despite the fact that her actions had been just a drop in a bucket, and had ultimately failed.

_Metal still lived!_

"I remember…." Miyamoto thought back to the island. The matches. The feelings. The exhilaration. "I can see it…." He flexed his fingers, as if using former control levers. "And… I can do this!"

"Very good, Sir." The A.I. said.

"Now, for that blasted bitch." Mr. Magnesium laughed. He would literally make her a blasted bitch, when the opportunity arose. "She's running, but she has not left the area. It would have been simple for her to run down the street, and she hasn't. It would have been simple to have put more distance between us, but she did not do that either. She must be afraid of hurting the crowds… the high price of being the good guy… or she does not one the Japanese savages to appropriate Arbalest. Or, it could be a delaying game. Maybe she expects the Mithril Cavalry to show up and save her from the Indians." The orange A.S. began advancing straight towards its white opponent.

"There could be another explanation," Lucas offered. "Sousuke Sagara… or, Kaname Chidori if she has been Arbalest's pilot all along… does not have a reputation for running or cowardice. My research reveals there is something called Feminine Wiles. It requires technique, creativity, and a lot of self-confidence in order to use it effectively in the non-combat world. It can have a powerful influence over any man."

"**Nonsense,"** Miyamoto crowed. "That's _bullshit._ I know all about that stuff, and I am immune. "I've seen plenty a rube fall for that kind of shit. Tramps can play a stupid man and exploit the weakness that comes from him allowing his little head to override his big head. I turn that kind of crap around. I manipulate women. They do_ not_ manipulate me. Woman strut and slink about, as if they are cats and men are mice at their command. I am not a mouse. I am a fox, and Kaname Chidori will be the rabbit." He thought that a perfect pairing, seeing that Lucas the A.S. was orange like a fox, and Arbalest was white like a rabbit.

_Foxes had nothing to fear from rabbits._

"You may also wish to consider time," Lucas added. He showed Miyamoto a digital readout that was recording the time of the battle so far. "This is not like some anime, where the combatants are the only ones in the continuum. In time, others will likely become players in this contest."

"**Right!"** Miyamoto replied. "I may be crazy like a fox… but I am _not_ crazy." He had been too caught up in the game. This was an unsanctioned raid, so there was no help coming for him. His cronies had set small fires around the world to draw Mithril in, but that organization would not be distracted forever. If his Lamba Driver remained undependable, the local yokels in the national militia could do him grievous harm. "There are other ways to get my vengeance."

Yes. In fact, killing Kaname Chidori… who had mocked him as her supposed twin, Ayame… might not even be the best plan. He could hire assassins to kill the real Ayame Chidori. Or, he could simply have the younger girl abducted and sold to a Middle Eastern brothel. He knew by experience that girls were auctioned off on the Dark Web.

_Her sister would love to see a live video feed, right? _

"Summon Chaziqiel," Mr. Magnesium commanded. "Circling pattern… high altitude… full ECS and stealth functions… ready to swoop in at a moment's notice." Yes, not only was the enormous aircraft his way out, but it was also another useful tool for revenge. He could look up Kaname Chidori's home address and send one of the full-sized drones on a Kamikaze mission. To the school, too. Or, he could drop a large amount of explosive ordinance on targets that would cause her great anguish. "Okay. Here's how we do it. Five song limit. After the fifth song, we will prepare for pick up."

"As you wish, Sir." Lucas said. "Does that hold true if you a winning an unfinished battle?"

"Yes," Miyamoto said. "But I reserve the right to change my mind, of course." He nodded his head, satisfied with his thinking. "And I have figured out how we will pump the brakes. Override the light linked to the proximity alarm." A lot of good_ that_ did him during the last surprise attack. "Light it up on for a dozen drum beats, and then off for three dozen. Rinse and repeat." He would trigger use of the Lambda Driver every time that the light came on, and cease his mental activity when the light dimmed. **"Let's go!"** He started off at a good military jog, hook knives held at a suitable angle.

"I recommend caution," Lucas put in. "Up until now, it has been the smallest of enemies that have done us the most damage. Small things can be dangerous. For example, fleas may be tiny, but they can carry disease and-"

"_Fuck_ the small things," Miyamoto said. "Some are dead. The first one who injured us ran off. The second one is running too, worse for wear. And dear Retsuko is too busy soiling herself. Now that I am getting more serious, nothing can get in my way." He began forming wispy domes of force when the light was lit, and then willed them out of existence when the light went dark.

"But sir, if you think small things don't matter, think of the last game you lost by one point." Lucas said.

"What does _that_ even fucking mean?" Mr. Magnesium snapped. "You are not a fucking fortune cookie! You are beginning to sound like a fucking mother. You _know_ what I think about mothers. Besides, you are just a fucking machine. Don't start thinking that you know better than men do." He felt his anger beginning to rise sharply again. "What level is the music set at?"

"Two, sir." Lucas answered.

"Then set it to _four!"_ Miyamoto demanded, knowing what musical hell awaited him. The next song came on. It was 'Enjoy the Violence' by the 90s band Massacra. The vocals are quite brutal, almost feral in a way, and are more than a bit hard to swallow for those who don't adore death metal:

_I'm the dictates of your guilty conscience  
You must comply to my evil influence_

_You'd like to throw your boss out of the window  
Show no mercy and cut him up with a chainsaw_

_You can't bear this rep bothering your wife  
So rip him open with a carving knife  
You wonder how to kill your enemy  
Smash his head until it's gravy_

_You take pleasure  
In using violence  
It's in your nature  
Psychopathic sense_

_Psychological conflict  
You're under my influence  
You can't repress your instinct  
I incite you to violence_

_Enjoy  
The violence_

_I control your inward rage  
You can't suppress your anger  
I possess you, I'm your cage  
You feel an urge to murder_

The young pilot steered Lucas along the path of least resistance, making certain he did not pass too close to teetering structures, or pass by hidey-holes where the JSDF could situate fire teams.

_Better safe than sorry. _

His elegant ballet-like movements covered a lot of ground. He wondered what the watching crowd must think of his grace and skill. That would change soon, he was certain. He had to find a suitable way to put the girl off of her guard… demean her… and establish control. He could apply lessons learned from mercenaries on the island; but, many of those tricks might work on a human opponent, not a mechanical one: The Eye Gouge. Elbow Strikes to the back of the neck. The Long Knee and the Up Knee. The Throat Punch. Stomps to the groin and knees. Ax Stomps to wherever. Nutcracker Neck Hold. And the underappreciated Fishhook.

There must be some physical way to gain an unsurmountable advantage and finish things promptly! Promptly, but not perfunctorily!

***B-O-O-M***

"_What the hell!"_ Mr. Magnesium felt his pilot seat move abruptly as an explosion jostled his A.S., causing him to bruise his human hip. "Lucas… that explosion… was it a fougasse?" A fougosse is a simple weapon, almost like a cross between a mine and a mortar. One fills a hollow in the ground with explosive and projectiles and sets it to explode. "Or a landmine?" Arbalest's pilot had set up that Claymore-like device earlier. "Some form of IED?"

"Unknown, sir." Lucas said. "We have taken concussive damage to the right ankle joint and penetrating injury to the right upper leg."

"_Dammit!"_ Miyamoto wished he had kept track of Arbalest's exact course. He took a different angle and began closing the distance even more.

***B-O-O-M***

"This is _really_ starting to piss me off!" Miyamoto shouted. "Can't you detect those fucking things in advance? Of _course _you can't." No sense asking for the impossible. **"Shit!"** What could he do? He could retreat back to where he started, and then take a long circuitous route; but, his self-imposed time limit would rear its ugly head.

"Let's try _this!"_ Mr. Magnesium said, "Brains over brawn!" Instead of running at ground level, he would make use of Lucas's balance and agility. He began leaping from pinnacle to peak, and from peak to crest. This way he would be sure to avoid-

***B-O-O-M***

"This is getting fucking ridiculous," Miyamoto wailed. "What in God's name is going on?" Wait. Over there. Under that overhanging ledge of concrete. That ovoid shape. Was that a grenade?! That fucking girl! He wanted to say 'fight like a man', but bit his tongue. If little tricks like this was all that she had left, he would weather the storm and make her pay.

"We have received more damage to the right leg, sir." Lucas said. "I would say that we have gone from F0 to F1." The A.I. had applied the Fujita scale for rating tornado intensity to describing damage levels. F0 is 'light damage'. F1 is 'moderate damage'. F2 is 'significant damage'. F3 is 'severe damage'. F4 is 'devastating damage'. F5 is 'incredible damage'. "I will remind you, we will no longer be operable after F4, and could suffer major system failures after F3."

"Dammit… dammit… dammit…. dammit…." Miyamoto was feeling that volcanic feeling again. "Turn the music up to 6!" He might have trouble hearing Lucas that way; but, he could direct the A.I. to print his words on the front view screen, using it as a HUD. Or. He could use headphones. He ran forward even quicker than before. That was a gamble. He could trigger more than one device in quick succession, causing more damage. Or, if he moved through an area quickly enough, he might run past the zone of damage thrown off by any given grenade. _"Hah!_ We're in range!" He placed an aiming graticule on the image of Arbalest. He activated the Gatling gun, intending to empty the magazine, doing severe damage to the naked machine.

_Nothing happened._

He pulled the trigger again and again. He didn't feel a vibration. He didn't hear the faint buzzing sound. No pieces of metal were flying off the back or waist of his adversary. "What in Apollo's name is going on?" Apollo was Greek god of medicine, music, and poetry, and had once been called 'The Dancer'.

There was a big red 'X' situated over the Gatling Gun icon on his touch screen. Moving the angles of rear cameras, he looked over the back of the Arm Slave. The gun was in a great mess! At least, the few remaining scraps were. It must have been that syphilitic sack of shit, that puling pink plaything.

"Let's try something inventive," Miyamoto said. It was risky, hearing what he had heard about the reactor. "Just like a Sherman Hedgehog." The 'Hedgehog' and 'Rhinoceros' tanks were the American nickname for Allied tanks fitted with 'tusks', or hedgerow cutting devices, during World War II. In. the summer of 1944, during the Battle of Normandy, Allied forces… particularly the Americans… had become bogged down fighting the Germans in the Normandy bocage. That landscape of thick banked hedges proved difficult for tanks to breach. In an effort to restore battlefield mobility, various devices were invented to allow tanks to navigate the terrain, with a slight degree of success. "That would be easier than forming a Crab." A mine flail is a vehicle-mounted device that makes a safe path through a mine-field by deliberately detonating land mines in front of the vehicle that carried it. They were first used by the British on the Sherman Mine Exploder T2 Flail, called 'The Crab' by the Brits. The mine flail consists of a number of heavy chains ending in fist-sized steel balls that are attached to a horizontal, rapidly rotating rotor mounted on two arms in front of the vehicle. The rotor's rotation makes the flails spin wildly and violently pound the ground. The force of a flail strike above a buried mine mimics the weight of a person or vehicle and causes the mine to detonate, but in a safe manner that does little damage to the flails or the vehicle.

Extensions of force preceded Lucas as he ran. But, they passed through matter, rather than pushing it. That was just as well. If they could be made more solid by his thoughts, they probably would have impeded or even stopped forward movement.

_In any case, his thoughtful and industrious actions did nothing to prevent the next explosion. _

***B-O-O-M***

"_Motherfuck!"_ Mityamoto called out in frustration. _"Look out!" _He saw a small object, mistakenly thinking it was another grenade. How he wished that he had kept the Groupies in reserve! Or that he had some aerial drones left! But, none of that would do him any good at that given moment, seeing that he had avoided the object the way an automobile driver avoids a squirrel sitting in the middle of the road, and had tripped over a fire hydrant. Lucas went sprawling, kicking up a small mountain of dirt and broken gravestones as the A.S. plowed forward, sliding head-first on its side. Miyamoto banged his head hard.

_Something strange happened._

He didn't notice the intense pain. He had bitten his tongue severely. He may have loosened a tooth or too. The restraining buckle had struck his groin the way that a male pilot should never be struck. He had bent one finger further back than it should be bent. That was all swept away by the mental aura that enveloped him. He knew that feeling. It was just like his Whispered episodes. But, this wasn't the type that gave him technological knowledge… this was the type that gave him precognition.

"I-" Miyamoto directed Lucas to pick himself up. He hadn't been down long, and Arbalest hadn't made a mad dash to attack. "I should-" The thoughts were swirling together, forming fleeting images and vague hints, and then taking them away "That would also-" The vision cleared, the way that a stirred up pool of water does. _Right!_ No more ballet moves. The answer was Mixed Martial Arts. And, by using the Lambda Driver force briefly with each strike, he could continue pumping the brakes. "First, a little misdirection."

His movements and attacks wouldn't be pretty now. They would be dirty. Hands on. Brutal. So would his mental and emotional attacks on his opponent. Most Ice Queens still had a warm spot in their heart for something.

First, he had to put the girl off of her game, and hopefully draw her in. If his plan worked, it worked. If it didn't, he would simply man up and march right in. He put on a set of headphones. They would cancel the noise somewhat when someone spoke through the com-set. He established audio again. "I forgot you were an athlete," he said. "I thought you played softball, not cross country. All you seem to do is run. Your reputation seems to be a sham."

There was no reply.

"It's okay," Mr. Magnesium said. "I actually prefer a woman who's quiet. Seen and not heard." He chuckled. "You know what the perfect woman is,_ don't_ you? Toothless… quiet… and at midnight, she turns into a roast beef sandwich!"

Again, there was no response.

"As you can hear, I'm rocking!" Miyamoto felt a bit queasy, actually. But, by pretending to be the rough sort who jammed to Metal, he might set the girl on edge. "And… I think I'm about to rock that building over there…." Lucas held an arm up and pointed. The sign outside read Chofu Shiritsu Tobu Nursery. It was a squat two story concrete edifice, surrounded by small bland two-to-four story apartment buildings. "Think of how many toddlers I can _rock _to sleep…." He began walking Lucas in that direction. "Here… let's share. Lucas… turn up the volume to eight."

If the girl was going to listen to him, she would get to hear the music in all of its glory.

"But sir," Lucas said. "Accepted standards for recommended permissible exposure time for continuous time weighted average noise, according to NIOSH and CDC, 2002. For every three decibels over eighty-five decibels, the permissible exposure time before possible damage can occur is cut in half. For reference, eighty-five decibels is the sound level of traffic. Ninety-five decibels is a lawn mower. One-hundred-fifteen decibels is a rock concert. One-hundred-twenty-five decibels is a jackhammer. We are at One-hundred-twenty. Permissable exposure time before any damage occurs is eight hours for eighty-five decibels; thirty minutes for ninety-seven decibels; and thirty seconds for one-hundred-fifteen decibels. The humancochlea is fragile: it needs to be protected. Among the risk factors, the greatest is intense noise. Exposure to high noise levels irreversibly destroys human sensory cells and produces deafness and tinnitus. At birth, a human cochlea contains less than fifteen thousand hair cells, a very limited capital compared to the millions of sensory cells in the retina. And those cochlear cells, once they are killed, do not regenerate! You are willingly walking into anauditory minefield."

"I just walked through a fucking _minefield_ minefield and I'm still going," Mr. Magnesium said, feeling a bit testy. "So. Level eight. And, let's share it with _every_one. Put on the external speakers. All of them. Full volume. "Hellooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o Tokyoooo-ooo-oo-o…."

_I'm the dictates of your guilty conscience_

_You must not comply to my evil influence_

_Your neighbour is always fucking you around_

_Put your fingers in his eyes and scratch them out_

_You hate the collector and the income tax_

_Keep your money and cut him to pieces with an axe_

_You've had enough of cops and parking tickets_

_Take your gun and riddle them with bullets_

_Prompted my brutal force_

_You commit crimes in cold blood_

_With no feeling of remorse_

_You're always thirsting for some more_

Miyamoto began high-stepping Lucas. He was really feeling it now, that growing sense of inevitability, like when he fought a total noob in the arena. He really didn't hate children. Nevertheless, he thought of an old joke. Maybe Kaname Chidori would like to hear it. "Miss Chidori, here's a question for you. If olive oil is made from olives, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?" He waited a moment, and hearing no reply said. "I think we're about to find out! You've seen those pictures in National Geographic, I bet… you know… the ones where the women have their skirts up as they stand in big wooden vats, stepping on grapes."

BAM!

_Something struck Lucas from behind. But, there wasn't much of a shock, and the A.I. didn't raise any damage warnings. What had just happened?_

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

It was grave markers. Grave markers and large pieces of cornice and roof material. The damn girl was throwing rocks again. But, that wouldn't work now. He had his anger right where he wanted it! He'd given her a chance. Because she didn't have the guts to face him, there'd be a lot of broken babies, pouting papas, and moaning mothers.

"Oh… Kaname dearest…." Mr. Magnesium said sweetly. "Do you know what one of the most popular flavors of baby food is? _Squash!"_ He snickered. "And, anything mashed." He piloted Lucas towards a parking lot dotted with idling cars, each filled with parents waiting to pickup their children, or strapping their children into car seats, if they had already checked them out at the front desk.

***B-O-O-M* *B-O-O-M* *B-O-O-M***

Three grenades went off in quick order. Sharpnel peppered surrounding buildings, and stung a number of spectators. This wasn't like watching from the safety of the couch, where the greatest danger was choking on a popcorn kernel or shooting milk out of a nostril or two!

The orange A.S. leaned over to one side, but righted itself, gyroscopes screaming. Fire suppression extinguishers went off in the right leg, and some of the noxious vapor made its way past torn seals and into the cockpit area.

"Turn the fucking fan _on!"_ Miyamoto coughed. His eyes were watering. "How could that be! I tested her! The girl is _not _Whispered." There was no way that Kaname Chidori could have foreseen his decision to attack the Nursery. Had that girl simply covered all of her bases? How could she have? Grenades don't grow on trees! Was she that clever, or was it just a lucky guess?

"Damage level has progressed to F2," Lucas noted. "If you do close in fighting, I strongly recommend that you protect the area of damage. A good strike could raise things up another level."

"_Bollocks,"_ Lucas spat. "I don't have time for this." He would have to charge in, like an angry bull. No. Chances are, that idiot girl would expect that. What could he do, then? Ah. Maybe. Yes. He always had been good at juggling, having been taught by circus professionals who were friends of the original Lucas. "Maybe I can spare a little bit more." He piloted the A.S. down into the parking lot, laughing when he saw the crowd's reaction. Some idiot policemen there actually firing pistols and automatic rifles. Morons! He took a deep bow, and then had Lucas give them all the finger.

There were cars of all varieties parked in the lot. One marked area was only for Kei cars, the Japanese vehicle category for the smallest highway-legal passenger cars. There was a Red-brown Toyota Pixis Space; a Sky blue Honda's N-one; and a black Suzuki Wagon R.

_They would do._

"Find three matching balls," Mr. Magnesium said, recounting past lessons, his ears ringing. "Hold two balls in your dominant hand and one ball in your other hand." He swept up the Toyota, and then grabbed the Honda and Suzuki with one hand, by pinching them together some. The faces in the viewscreen looked like they must be screaming, but he wouldn't be able to hear anything on the outside of the A.S. short of the Mother of All Bombs. "Stand with your elbows bent ninety degrees and your palms facing up." _Whoa!_ Some ilk of soldier just fired a small man-portable ATGM! He leaned to one side, and it flew past, just over one shoulder.

_The stakes were growing higher! _

"Toss one of the paired-up balls into the air gently." Lucas threw the Honda upwards. "Throw the ball in your opposite hand into the air immediately after." Up went the Suzuki. "Toss the last ball that's left in your dominant hand into the air." And so the Toyota joined the game.

"Catch the balls in the order you threw them." He caught the car he threw first, then the second car, and then the last car. **"That'll work!"** He began juggling in earnest, at least by intent, as the motor vehicles did not go very high at all. Lucas only had so much strength. He laughed when he saw one man trying to climb out a window, leaving his child behind. He stopped laughing when he caught sight of a pair of soldiers aiming a large tripod-mounted missile launcher at him. He had been pretty good with a Hacky Sack, too. He tipped one larger parked car up with his left foot, let it fall onto the top of that foot, and then flung it towards the two men, with gruesome accuracy. "And now the main attraction. I hope you can catch, baby doll." He tossed the Toyota over high over his shoulder. To catch it, Arbalest would have to move in closer.

The car flipped end over end, clipped a tree, and began tumbling to one side. With a bounding leap, the ARX-7 landed, braced its legs, and held two cupped hands out. The A.S. caught that car, and gently placed it on the ground.

"**Next!"** Lucas hefted the Suzuki, higher and closer too him. "Careful, I put some spin on that one." The car cleared a tree. It too was caught, and safely laid away. "This one is for heroes, only!" He turned around and threw the car football style, but threw at an incredibly sharp angle, not that far off from vertical. "Wait for ittttt-tttt-ttt-tt-t…." But, _he _didn't wait. It was at that very instant that he made his move. He sent Lucas running full speed ahead, even though the A.I. called out warning that additional damage would be at F3 with the right leg dealing with that much torque.

Arbalest caught the third car, unable to keep from crushing it some. Then, as it faced a rushing foe, it tossed the car aside with less care than before, with the subsequent result being a car resting on its side, windows broken.

"You do this because you know you can't defeat me!" Kaname Chidori's voice came through the headphones. "Sure, you may be able to kill me. But a baby with a hammer can kill a sleeping parent. So what! You can't defeat me. You don't have any balls. You threw them all at me and missed. La Loser!"

It was Mr. Magnesium's turn to stay silent, closing ground quickly. It looked as if the white A.S. was going to stand its ground this time.

_Perfect!_

"This is not a show of manliness," the girl said. "This is a sign of true impotence. You have no trouble threatening innocents, because your parents must have stolen your innocence. Were you treated like garbage? Thrown out like the trash?"

The two machines collided, Arbalest making a last second move to gain an advantage in leverage. The move was neither a surprise, nor was it effective.

Without warning, a mortar shells fell earthward, exploding close to Arbalest, and even closer to one of the stricken cars. More soldiers must have arrived: a significant feat considering the total length of the fight so far and the distance of the barracks from the fight. And, someone with binoculars must be doing a good job spotting, as the barrage ceased after two more shells exploded.

Shrapnel shredded some trampled bushes surrounding one captive automobile. No one wanted to be written up for civilian deaths.

"You can't hurt me with words, or with your machine," Mr. Magnesium claimed. "You might as well stab at the air with a sword. You should chosen to fight someone who can be hurt. I live a charmed life, one which cannot be taken from me by a woman. Of this I am quite certain. I saw that truth in a vison." He had indeed, in a blurry Whispered trance.

"Really?" Kaname Chidori's voice said. "Your charmed life will do you no good. You see… I have a secret… I'm _not_ really a girl. I'm a guy whose mind has been transferred into a girl's brain. In body I am the Class Rep, but in mind I take out the garbage." She laughed. "And if I put my real body's manhood down on the table, I know that it will dwarf yours. And you do too, right. That's why you have to cheat." Of course, fighting with an advantage in battle wasn't cheating. But, that stung just the same.

"Hah hah," Miyamoto said. "So very funny." He began activating the Lambda Driver, wanting to form a massive pushing blow, one that would knock the enemy to the ground and disable it in one stroke. His memory of what Lucas warned him about didn't stay his hand. His latest Whispered precognition did. To defeat the girl, he needed a new style of attack.

Mixed Martial Arts …MMA… is a full-contact combat sport that allows striking and grappling, either standing or on the ground, using techniques from various combat sports and martial arts. In Ancient Greece, there was a sport called _pankration_, which featured a combination of grappling and striking skills similar to those found in modern MMA. All strikes and holds were allowed, with the exception of biting and gouging, which were banned. The fighters, called pankratiasts, fought until someone could not continue or signaled submission by raising their index finger; there were no rounds. Pankration was later passed on to the Romans. In Ancient China, combat sport appeared in the form of _Leitai,_ a no-holds-barred mixed combat sport that combined Chinese martial arts, boxing and wrestling. There is evidence of similar mixed combat sports in Ancient Egypt, India and Japan.

Victory in an MMA match is normally gained either by the judges' decision after an allotted amount of time has elapsed, a stoppage by the referee or the fight doctor… due to an injury… a submission… by a competitor's cornerman throwing in the towel… or by knockout. Mr. Magnesium wasn't a member of UFC or Pride. His victory would come when the girl was dead. Two songs down. Lucas next played 'Angel of Death' by Slayer:

_Auschwitz, the meaning of pain  
The way that I want you to die  
Slow death, immense decay  
Showers that cleanse you of your life_

_Forced in  
Like cattle  
You run  
Stripped of  
Your life's worth_

Arbalest was advancing now, knife in hand. Maybe that girl thought this was going to be a knife fight. What good would a knife do her, even if she were trained in _Kali Eskrima_… a Filipino martial art with weapon-based fighting…_Paranza Corta_…the main Italian knife fighting system built around stilletos… or _Pencak Silata_… a collective term for many indigenous martial arts from The Malay Archipelago in Southeast Asia and something Miyamoto had enjoyed in 'The Raid 2.' No, he didn't care if she had trained in _Systema Spetsnaz_… created for Russian Special Forces based on traditional self-defense methods… or since she's Japanese… _Tantojutsu._ When Samurai entered the chaos of the battlefield and got up close and personal, their katana swords weren't as effective, which is where the tanto knife comes into play. He would normally enjoy countering blade with blade, skill with skill. But, he had his vision, and he wanted an even deeper visceral thrill. He would use his weapons to keep her off guard; but, he would use Lucas's body as a battering ram… a wrecking ball… as a hammer who shows a nail who is boss!

_Human mice, for the angel of death  
Four hundred thousand more to die_

_Angel of death  
Monarch to the kingdom of the dead  
Sadistic, surgeon of demise  
Sadist of the noblest blood_

_Destroying, without mercy  
To benefit the Aryan race_

_Surgery, with no anesthesia  
Fell the knife pierce you intensely  
Inferior, no use to mankind  
Strapped down screaming out to die_

This would be unique. This would be him. This would be a testament to originality. In Arm Slave battles, who tried to use fighting moves? Whose machine was nimble enough? What pilot was courageous enough to deviate from the norm, with life on the line?

_This was his time to shine._

"I am going to fuck your pretty face up, Kaname Chidori," Mr. Magnesium said in a happy drawl, a voice that would have done credit to any Hyde or Moriarty. "I'm going to fuck it up so much, that your Daddy is going to send you even further away from him than this shithole country. Or maybe he'll leave you here, to horrify a country that hadn't been horrified enough by two nuclear bombs and all of those fucking Pokemon. No. Wait. I keep forgetting. You'll be dead. I'll be doing him a big favor!"

As it turned out, the girl truly _did_ have spunk after all. Like certain animals, she could tell where her prey was wounded, and went for the injured area with Arbalest's dagger. Not only that, but she was quick on her feet. She tore a long I-beam out from crumbled brick and plaster, and made efforts to bludgeon Lucas, only to have her attacks blocked or redirected, with little damage to his Arm Slave. But, there had been more to that attack; she had steered him towards jagged pieces of metal projected out from the ground, remnants of who knows what.

"You _can't _be a student of history!" Miyamoto called out. "What do women know of war!" She must be clever, then. Presupposing that his Lambda Driver might be active, she had almost caused him to take damage to the one area where his barrier wouldn't protect him… the bottom of Lucas's feet. In the annals of battle, that was not a new trick. Caltrops and spiked boards were thrown at the feet of war elephants to make them lame in different places during different eras.

_Angel of death  
Monarch to the kingdom of the dead  
Infamous butcher,  
Angel of death_

_Pumped with fluid, inside your brain  
Pressure in your skull begins pushing through your eyes  
Burning flesh, drips away_

Miyamoto nibbled on his lower lip. That damn girl was innovative; she could create on the fly. He had to be on constant look out for more tricks and traps. She attempted to goad him into piloting Lucas across a leaf strewn cluster of tatami mats dislodged from a small collapsed home. They had been kicked so that they covered a deep koi pool. Moments after that, she had grabbed hold of his machine's left wrist, and pulled him behind a deadfall, a teetering wall of a collapsed three-story office building. He managed to pull free just as the wall fell, suffering a few shallow gouges and nothing more.

_Test of heat burns your skin, your mind starts to boil  
Frigid cold, cracks your limbs_

_How long can you last  
In this frozen water burial?  
Sewn together, joining heads  
_

"Here I come!" When Miyamoto and Lucas were a short distance of Arbalest, he sprinted forward and deflected a dagger strike. **"Arm bar!"** Yes, he sounded like a bad anime or video game, but that was fine. It would make this even more fun. He directed the A.S. to put pressure on the ARX-7's elbow joint by attempting to bend it the way it does not naturally bend. It didn't have much effect. He then moved the body of both machines, trying to situate himself so that the opponent's arm is between his knees, enabling him to use his hips to intensify the pressure.

_What next? Why not go alphabetically!_

"**Axe kick."** After dodging a sweeping blade, he raised one A.S. leg straight in the air and brought it straight down, like the motion of an axe. The heel of that mechanical foot hit Arbalest's knife hand; but, it did not knock the weapon free.

"Too close!" A small missile just missed Lucas's head and Arbalests' waist, before splashing into another fish pond.

_Just a matter of time _

_til you rip yourselves apart  
Millions laid out in their_

_Crowded tombs  
Sickening ways to achieve  
The holocaust  
Seas of blood, bury life_

"I'll save 'Ground and Pound' for last," Mr. Magnesium told himself quietly, licking his bloody lips. So, how about **Hammer fist!"** Lucas enacted a fierce strike, bringing the bottom of his closed fist into contact with his opponent with speed and force. The pilot laughed. Arbalest's knees had buckled a bit! He was winning! **"Hook!"** He giggled, bringing both hook knives flashing inches before his opponent's 'face,' before implementing the Hook he had in mind. That was a punch where a fighter cocks his arm at a ninety-degree angle in front of his body, with the force coming from the side rather than straight on or from underneath. The impact caused Arbalest to sway, but not enough to lose balance or provide an enticing opening.

His subsequent 'Jab'… a straight punch…. was followed quickly by a 'Leg Kick',,, one he landed on Arbalest's left leg. He repeated that a number of times in succession before the ARX-7 spun away. Multiple leg kicks can cause accumulated damage and fatigue and disrupt an opponent's balance. He would use a 'Leg Lock' or 'Mount' when the time finally called for it, and a 'Rear Naked Choke', if that would help him bring the other A.S. down to the ground on its back. He would prefer a Mount to 'Side Control', a position where a he could immobilize his white opponent by lying perpendicularly across it, who was on her back or side, controlling the head and hips.

He frowned, but only for a moment, when Arbalest struck out sharply with the butt of its 57mm, striking one hook blade and sending it spinning into the ground next to a sooty baby doll and other contents from a damaged home.

_No matter. _

"Warning-" Lucas began. His sensors had captured a pertinent image and he had translated it into conscious mechanical thought. But, his call came too late.

***B-O-O-M***

That strike with the gun had served two purposes. It had disabled one close combat weapon, and it had distracted him from a motion that was noticed only after the move was complete. The ARX-7 had reached down and plucked the last grenade off of a belt at its waist.

"Damage to left leg, sir." The A.I. said. What a relief. Any more damage to the right leg might put him at a severe disadvantage. "No noticeable drop in mobility." That was very fortunate, indeed. No moss grew on Arbalest! To borrow from a movie franchise, it was acting fast and furious.

_Smell your death as it burns  
Deep inside of you_

_Abacinate, eyes that bleed  
Praying for the end of  
Your wide awake nightmare_

Immediately after dropping the live grenade, the white A.S. had pulled a telephone pole out of the ground, cement root dripping gravel, and transformer spitting sparks before bursting into flame. The great trimmed length of tree came swinging in, leg level, electrical wires stringing out behind it. Lucas tried to leap over the weapon; but, its action was only partially successful. The strike hit the lower left leg, causing Lucas to trip and fall to his hands and knees.

_This was bad!_

"I have to do it," Miyamoto called out. He was at too much risk, down in a prone position. Just as he began standing up, he put up a force barrier, just in time to block a tomahawk blow from the huge staff. Watching as splintered wood flew everywhere, he took up the stance he wanted, a proper distance from his foe now. That had put a greater strain on the Arm Slave's reactor than he had wanted. But, by this time, he must have stabilized things somewhat with his efforts. "

"**Spinning Back-Fist."** Lucas closed the gap and used a punch where the Arm Slave started out facing the ARX-7, and then spun around quickly with one fist outstretched, using the momentum generated from the spin to put force behind the resulting contact, which occurred when the spin comes full circle. He followed that with that attack's cousin. **"Spinning Back-Kick**." The orange A.S. managed to land a fierce kick executed in a manner similar to the preceding spinning back-fist. "Oh ho! I have an answer for _that!"_ That blasted girl had tried a takedown attempt. **"Sprawl."** He caused Lucas to jump back, drop his hips, and then drive his weight into the opponent. He had hoped to push Arbalest down, as the green lines on the bar graph indicating artificial muscle strength had tuned from green lines to yellow ones. He could only hope that his adversary was suffering even worse wear and tear. That attack had been a no go. It didn't matter. There was something else that he had been wanting to do all along.

_It would mean he had to abandon the Dictionary approach._

First, however, he had to weather a shit storm, so to speak. Kaname Chidori had used her Arm Slaves hand like the bucket on a large bucket-and-scoop tractor… gathered up a palm full of muddy soil and septic tank contents… and had flung it on the front of Lucas. A number of cameras were obscured totaly, and a few others were partly slimed.

"**Dirty fucking trick!"** Mr, Magnesium was not making a pun. "But I'm no pushover!" He had seen a broken fire hydrant near the edge of the highway, without realizing that he had been the cause of its damage. It was fountaining water high in the air, at strong pressure. He ran quickly to that water source and cleansed his viewing apparatus, before returning to the fray, duckling a thrown porcelain toilet and the remnants of a wood and stone bathing tub. He ran close to Arbalest, just outside of arm reach, and slid to a stop.

Lucas back-pedaled quickly, without telegraphing the move. Then, with enough distance, he moved up and threatened a front kick. **"Supermannnn-nnn-nn-n!"** Lucas drew its kicking leg back quickly, while simultaneously throwing a punch with the same side fist. The force of the kick was transferred to the punch, and the supporting foot left the ground. "Yes! _Yes yes yesyesyes!"_ That had been a resounding success. Arbalest stumbled backwards, almost losing balance on bunches and bits of wreckage littering the fight floor. "Screw the 'Sweep'," Mr. Magnesium called out. He was only jumping one entry in his mind's list. **"Swinging For** **The Fences."** He threw a series of attacks, as if he were fighting in the last seconds of a timed fight. **"Uppercut!"** He had jumped the queue again, and his attack was barely deflected.

_Wings of pain, reach out for you  
His face of death staring down,  
Your blood running cold_

_Injecting cells, dying eyes  
Feeding on the screams of  
The mutants hes creating  
Pathetic harmless victims  
Left to die  
Rancid angel of death  
Flying free_

_Angel of death_

"Sir," Lucas intoned. "If the readings are correct, I believe that you have successfully resurrected the reactor. Full Lambda Driver functions should be available for a modicum of time. I recommend that you use it wisely.

_Now it was time. _

"I think I'll take things to the next and last level." Miyamoto smiled as sweat dripped down into one eye, stinging. **"Sweep!"** That was a move where a competitor who has an opponent in the guard takes away the opponent's balance, turns him over, and ends up on top, frequently in the mount. Sweeps are dependent upon the sweeper's ability to remove all of the opponent's supports on one side, by making it impossible for the opponent to 'base out' with a hand or a foot. Arbalest managed to keep upright with a series of countermoves. "Then you leave me no other choice," the pilot said with a smile. He had used this move in fights, with laughing girls who wanted it, and crying girls who didn't. **"Takedown! **_Ooo-oo-oh_ yeh!" In that method for getting an opponent on the ground and getting on top of him, a move borrowed heavily from wrestling, he chose to shoot in and grab a leg behind a knee. "There are no 'Tap Outs'!"

WHAM!

With Arbalest on its back, and Lucas straddling it, Mr. Magnesium had Lucas begin raining blow after blow on the Arm Slaves chest. He would turn that girl into scrambled eggs! If not her body, at least her brain. If he cracked the chest cavity and pulled it open, he would find the chewy treat on the inside. He would slowly squeeze the bitch in Lucas's hand, until her eyes went blank, and her blood ran between the A.S.'s fingers.

"**Not good enough!"** Mr. Magnesium cried out, his fun delayed momentarily. Arbalest had managed to grab both of Lucas's wrists. There was some danger there. The bar graph from the wrist 'muscles' was teetering on the edge of red. If they failed and Arbalest's muscles did not, then the opponent could literally snap Lucas's hands off at the wrist. _"Dammit!"_ He didn't want to risk that. Catching his breath, he needed to start thinking about time now. As long as his Lambda Driver held up, he could withstand even a full out assault from any indigenous A.S. forces that might make an appearance; but, something like that would put his escape at risk. He pushed a button he had programmed for BAT-recall. It was a wise decision, seeing that he had not been tracking the Plan-1102's position, and had no idea how long it would take for pick-up.

"Lucas!" Mr. Magnesium called out. "Turn it up to 10! That's a fucking order!"

_Monarch to the kingdom of the dead  
Infamous butcher,  
Angel of death_

_Angel of death_

Azrael was the Angel of Death in Judaism. Malak Almawt was the equivalent in Islam. The Christian Bible gave no name to that being, who was neither Grim Reaper nor Shinigami. But, the young pilot knew its name: Lucas. More precisely: Lucas II.

"Parting will be such fucking sorrow!" Mr. Magnesium paused in his actions. Looking around briefly as the two machines struggled to gain some advantage with their hands, he noticed just how large a crowd had grown. Countless cretins filled the front row seats. There were police, firefighters, and members of various armed forces, all sitting back, none offering any support whatsoever, as if this were one of the kaiju movies where both monsters were the bad guys, and they hoped that the two battling behemoths would take each other out. Idiots. Cowards. Were they out of anti-tank weapons, or had their nutsacks fallen off?

Behind them, showing more curiosity than common sense, was another mass of onlookers, who should have been home getting dinner ready or on their way to pick up food or the kids. Miyamoto turned on the external speakers, and had Lucas pass along his words only, not the morbid and maudlin music. "I know that you've told me if you ever caught me cheating, you wouldn't kill me, because you love our children and they need a dad. But you would beat me up, because you know where all of my sports injuries are." That was a paraphrased quote he had once read from Angelina Jolie, made about Billy Bob Thornton. "You can call this cheating too, even though it's not the same kind."

_That ought to make a spicy show for the crowd._

Mr. Magnesium had come up with a plan that was simple in conception, but might prove difficult in execution. He had the physics of it down, and he had an image of it engraved in the back of his mind. He formed a blanket of Lambda Driver force over Arbalest's body, holding it firm in place, with no recourse. As long as the Palladium Reactor did its job, there would be no escape. The ARX-7 could self-destruct, to no effect. If its Lambda Driver function returned, there was no room for it to grab hold of him or push him away, as he now lay flat on top of it. "Will you people have the courtesy to give us some privacy. We're going to _screw_ now!" He used one elbow to push Lucas up. He held the other arm at the ready, hook point pointed at Arbalest's body.

This force field was uni-directional. Nothing could reach in, but he could reach out. The knife would score deeply, cutting through metal, and possibly flesh. Cut into pieces, or crushed to a pulp, Kaname's choices were not enviable.

"Sir," Lucas said. "A coded message came in from one of your shadow operatives." The JASDF had an estimated 50,324 personnel operated 777 aircraft, approximately 373 of them fighter aircraft. Apparently they had gotten something armed and ready to fly. "Two Mitsubishi F-2 multirole fighters are on the tarmac at Misawa Air Base." That type of jet was derived from the General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon. "3rd Tactical Fighter Squadron. Northern Air Defense Force." The base is used by the Japan Air Self-Defense Force and the United States Air Force and is located in Misawa, Aomori, in the northern part of the island of Honshū , four hundred twenty five miles north of Tokyo.

Miyamoto heard that, but it only partially registered on his mind. Likewise, he had not heard the girl's last comments; but, he did catch one thing, and it made him grin like an idiot. "I hope we will not live out a quote from T.S. Eliot," the A.I. had said to Kaname Chidori, quoting from 'The Hollow Men.' "This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper."

"There's plenty of time for me to finish her off," Miyamoto said triumphantly. "Yes. There's still time. Frailty, thy name is woman." This was just delicious! "Today was my oyster!"

His emotions had been spiking all day, but they had been on a constant upsweep for quite some time. At that instant, they had begun to crescendo, sky's the limit. Nothing could top this. Nothing could take this victory away from him. He was the Prince of Evil. He was not listening, despite the roar that drowned out his hearing and set his brain aflame. Sepultura's 'Stronger Than Hate' had begun playing:

_I shall redeem myself from the clutches that grasp at my inner self  
No tomorrow will ease my oppression  
My streak of hate leads my way_

_Look at me  
My feelings turn  
Stronger than hate  
I can't decide on which way to turn  
My choices are few and far between  
A lifetime of remorse_

"Fiery the angels fell; deep thunder rolled around their shores; burning with the fires of Orc." Mr. Magnesium spoke like a veteran actor in a play, or the conductor giving the prologue at an opera. He quoted Roy Batty from 'Bladerunner', remarkably not yet realizing that the music had been shut off forcibly in its entirety. The line in the movie was a deliberate misquote of William Blake's America A Prophecy : 'Fiery the angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll'd Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc."

At that moment, he felt like a Fallen Angel… and it felt damned good. He could just have easily used another of the replicant's lines: "You better get it up. Or I'm gonna have to kill ya."

He began the move that would do just that.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**SANEATSU PARK**

"How very poetic," a voice said, heard by the occupants of both Arm Slaves, which were still linked audibly. "After such vile and profane noise."

Both Sousuke and Miyamoto recognized the voice, which was coming through Lucas's com set.

_It belonged to Leonard Testarossa._

A number of things happened to Lucas in quick succession. The force shield went down, as the Lambda Driver shut itself off. Lucas had all of his higher functions snuffed out. All power to the orange A.S. was cut-off, as an outside source accessed a small device hidden within the crippled A.S. during construction.

"Well then, Miyamoto Bokuden… once known as Mister Magnesium…." The way that was said, was as if some big eraser was wiping away that name written in erasable ink on a Dry Erase blackboard. "You were given a clear and concise warning, were you not?" Leonard didn't seem perturbed at all. Not a single feather seemed ruffled. The surface of a still loch could not be as still. "Common sense is not so common after all, so it seems."

"You already know the answer," Miyamoto replied. He was in shock, but the surprise was giving rise to righteous anger. He tried to switch the music back on, but he was locked out.

"Of course, dullard," Leonard said. "But, your kind of impudence… do you think that it's cool?"

"I don't need to disobey selfish orders to be cool," the former Mr. Magnesium claimed. He began checking dials and readouts, but almost everything had gone black. No. wait. Now it _was _everything. Everything except a certain button that only he and a deceased engineer knew about. "It comes with the territory."

"I see," Leonard said with a sigh. "Undeserved arrogance. I hate that kind of thing."

"Who are you to blabber on about arrogance?" Miyamoto said indignantly. "You're a pretty boy like me; but,_ I_ earned what I have. You had everything handed to you."

"You are truly deluded," Leonard replied. "How pathetic. You are obstinate, but you are weak. You court fury, but you leave obedience at the altar. That's even worse. Now, it will be interesting to see, will you swap rage out for panic."

"Has the bleach you use on your hair soaked into your brain?" Miyamoto knew this was the wrong tact, but he had no control of his emotions now. Besides, once Leonard Tesarossa set his dogs on someone, that someone was doomed. And, in his case, the man was taking a personal interest. "What are you talking about?" He was typing away feverishly on a keyboard. "What you are doing now will make you a public joke."

"I have put an end to your extracurricular activities," Leonard said, with no hint of emotion. "You've made quite a bit of a mess of these schools and the adjoining buildings. You have trampled holy temples, ancient shrines, and blessed graveyard. But, they will all be returned to the way they once were, soon enough."

"What are you cackling about," the young pilot asked. "You are a strutting peacock. And I mean that in the most literal of ways!" He continued with his typing, trying to remember crucial and critical codes and phrases. "You stopped me when I was about to kill Sousuke Sagara, the anointed one. You prevented me from killing Arbalest, the savior of Mithril." He lied. If he told the truth about Kaname Chidori sitting in the pilot seat, Leonard might bring more resources to bear, making certain that his death was beyond a certainty. 'Note to myself,' he mouthed. 'Stop being so fucking confrontational. We need subtle manipulation here.'

The override process was systematically setting up a programming panacea that had a fighter's chance at reversing the shut down; but, there was no way to surmise how much of the A.I. could be salvaged. It would take some time. One wrong keystroke could send him back to the beginning. He couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This was Black Jack. He had a Ten down and Seven showing. The dealer had a Ten showing and a Jack visible up his sleeve. He had to take another card. He pushed all of his chips to the center of the table.

"Neither of those things that you mentioned are a concern to me," Leonard remarked. "Arbalest is no match for my Belial. Sagara is no match for me. But, he can still be useful to me. He can finish you as _you_ wait helplessly. Ironic, is it not?"

"But I was winning!" Miyamoto said with some heat. His pent-up psychology was rushing in, like water pouring forth from a broken hydroelectric dam. "I was winning." If he had realized how much his whine sounded like Trelaine in the Star Trek episode 'The Squire of Gothos,' he would have stumbled mentally, at risk for psychic and programming fails at the most inopportune time.

"Nothing can come of nothing," Leonard quoted.

"I would have won, honest," Miyamoto said, his voice cracking. "You had no right to stop me."

"Do you truly think so?" Leonard asked. "As flies to wanton boys are, those like you are to the gods," Leonard said smoothly. "We kill those like you for sport."

"I WOULD HAVE… IWOULD HAVE… I WOULD HAVE…." Miyamoto wasn't trying to sound as childish as he did. He was faced with a dreadful situation. There was a painful parallel. Playing professional jai alai has lost its sheen, and the fast-paced game, once an attraction to aspiring athletes and thousands of fans across the country, is flirting with extinction. The players were worth more dead than alive, so to speak, as there is value to the arenas that they play in.

"Howl howl howl," Leonard intoned perfectly. "Things grow worse for you. So petulant and immature. Any victory you had in life must have come against the feeble and the incompetent. I can understand why Amalgam may feel like it needs your family's resources. But I… like that family… have long since determined that we do not need _you_. You sealed your doom when you committed a crime against Amalgam. We do not want Mithril snooping around where they do not belong. We want our victory over them to be sudden and devastating sideshow."

"**F-A-M-I-L-Y-!-!-!"** Miyamoto pushed out so hard with both hands, that he actually cracked the rubber on one control stick, when he clenched his hands around them to keep his unconscious movement from doing damage to the keyboard. He saw red. He had to maintain some semblance of sanity. He needed to play Leonard, while the unsuspected fool took pleasure from playing _him_. He needed the angelic young man to fall for his devilish plan. There was something drastic that the other man could do that was reversible. "My family is nothing more than nouveau riche trash. Empty heads and stuffed shirts. They never truly needed me. Their mistakes will some day be their undoing, as will yours. You never should have stopped me. The future will prove me right."

"You are an idiot," Leonard opined. "Full of sound and fury, nothing more."

"But-" Miyamoto began. Here it comes. The uppercut that the champ never saw coming. Time to throw caution to the wind. "-As bad as _my_ mother was… I should think that _your_ mother was far worse, _right?_ I mean… from the rumors that I heard…"

"Don't screw with me," Leonard spat out, the tranquil lake now awash with ripples and small waves. "Stop screwing with me!" The small waves ran into one another, becoming large waves. _"What do you know?!"_ The pitch and meter of the man's speech changed rapidly.. **"You are not worth the dust that the rude wind blows in your face."** The large waves were swallowed up by the tsunami that blew right past them_**. **_

"My goodness," Miyamoto said to himself, too shocked to smile and savor the situation.

"_**I should have done this in the first place, to make certain that no one can collect that garish orange machine and its second-rate technology**_." Leonard sounded as if he had blown a gasket. There followed a short silence, and then a sudden sea change. The speaker sounded serene again, after he resumed speaking. "I thought it would be amusing to have that supposed secret aircraft of yours bomb you and that A.S. into a twisted inseparable tangle. However, if it is as incompetent as you, it might miss. So, I will succinctly set a simple but certain solution in motion."

"Amalgam needs me," Miyamoto claimed, feeling craven at making a plea. "I still have a head full of secret science. My Arm Slave has few rivals. Not every pilot can do what I can. It's like the early days of jai alai in America, where Carnival-like pamphlets at the time trumpeted jai alai as the Game of Dodging Death, accessible only to the breed of athlete that might possess the combined endurance of a championship prize fighter… the training of a thoroughbred… and the cannon arm of a major league baseball pitcher. During one early performance, Babe Ruth put on a cesta and tried to throw. He reportedly could not hit the front wall."

"As one should expect," Leonard said in parting. "You do not have the maturity to know sometimes silence is more powerful than having the last word."

"**Fuck you!"** Miyamoto cursed. _"You stuck up little princess!"_

The communication link between Leonard and Lucas went dead.

Lucas called out "Eleven."

It was a countdown. It was the -Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card that he so badly needed. That is, it would be_ if_ he could finish setting up the shell program that he needed to shut down the sequence of backward counting before Zero and his swan dive down into Hell. He didn't catch an engineer's joke. That countdown went f-r-o-m eleven.

Leonard missed his chance to kill him with certainty. He hoped to make the man pay for that oversight. But, that would take a lot of luck and supreme skill at skulking in the shadows. No doubt he was still under surveillance. Death could still come riding in on its boney steed to claim him soon enough, even if he was successful.

"Ten."

Miyamoto typed like a madman. He had once learned programming so that he could do the most he possibly could with his photographic efforts. Those lessons, added to the dastardly things he learned to do with Photo Shop and hijacked images, served him well now.

"Nine."

Lucas the A.I. was locked out. The computer was also greatly diminished, a state that would probably be permanent. If things had been otherwise, the computer would have been of great assistance. To be safe, he checked the exit. It was locked from the outside source. He began sweating some, and intensified his efforts. He should have thought to have the engineers put in a simple failsafe: an 'Open the Damn Door' back door subroutine.

"Eight."

He would stop the countdown! He would kill Kaname Chidori and make Leonard Testarossa upset! And then he would make use of his blasted family's darkest and dirtiest resources to kill _him,_ too!

"Seven."

"**Shit!"** Why did some ass wipe decide to cut cost by using bargain basement equipment?! Two adjacent keys on the keyboard were now stuck in the down position. He had no tools within reach, and nothing small enough for his needs in the cockpit, regardless. His fingernails might be perfectly manicured, but they were not long enough to pry the buttons upward, or drag them up through friction if he thrust them down in.

"Six."

_Fingernails? _

Well, _that_ might work. It was gross, and it might hurt like stink, but what else could he do? Not fingernails… _toe_nail. He felt as if the world outside him went completely still, frozen in time. He pulled off a boot, and then a sock. He grabbed the nail of his big toe, one he had accidentally pulled out in the past. He pulled strongly and continuously. With vigor born from desperation, he rocked and twisted, pushed and pulled.

"Five."

Twisting hard as he winced, trying not to look down at the dripping blood, he moved the dislodged nail back and forth, lessening its attachment to the mangled nail bed more and more.

_It came loose._

"Four."

"Leonard, you conceited cunt!" Miyamoto crowed. "Who's the arrogant one, huh? Who's the immature one, you prick?" He laughed. "You fucking took things for granted, you taint." He dropped the nail! But, the blood helped stick it to his finger, so it didn't fall away. Sweating heavily now, he jammed the nail in between the obstinate keys. He pulled up and it slipped back out.

"Three,"

"**Jackass!"** He had left the nail slick with blood. There was no time for such stupid mistakes! He wiped the nail off on the fabric of his A.S. suit's arm, and jammed it back in again, almost bending it during the attempt. He pulled up again.

_The keys came free._

"Two."

"Please don't stick," the former Mr. Magnesium begged as he began typing again. All that he needed to do was finish his work and hit 'Enter.' He spoke as he typed the last bit. "Override 7734 Magnesium rules."

*ENTER*

"Just like in those fucking movies!" Miyamoto said, wiping the sweat away. "Two seconds. Two… fucking… seconds…." He froze. _"Wait-" _He swallowed hard. He hoped that this wasn't going to end up like some films, where the hero or villain thought that he had been saved, only to have something or someone else resume the countdown, like in 'The Fifth Element.'

"Countdown terminated," Lucsas said.

"We came! We saw! We kicked his ass!" The young pilot would have danced a jig, if he was not seated, and if no one from the ballet world could catch sight of him. "Zuul be praised." He smiled. "And in case you ask, the answer is yes… I _am_ a god!"

A number of lesser systems had booted up. Ones with a medium level of complexity were just beginning to restart. The most complex functions might not return without a complete overhaul.

The Arm Slaves's arms were barely movable now, as if a family of elephants precariously perched on each one. The muscle systems were being checked strand by strand, barely usable during the diagnostic procedures.

"**G-O-D-A-M-M-I-T-!-!-!"**

Miyamoto had shouted at the top of his lungs.

He couldn't kill that bitch if he couldn't move his arms. He should have just used the force field as a knife or a gun or a hammer and killed her outright, instead of going for the more visceral and satisfying approach. He didn't have time to wait for things to be up and running again. Who knows what artillery shell… missile… laser beam… or exploding penguin might be at Leonard's beck and call. He had a victory. A Pyrrhic victory, maybe, but a victory just the same. But, he wanted to finish the war! After snuffing out that stupid student, he could further his revenge once he was back aboard the Bat.

_He was one of the people who liked to watch the world burn._

He went through the necessary procedures for releasing his remaining balloon. The button he had programmed for 'Bat Recall' still worked, thankfully. The blinking pattern of lights that followed the pushing of that button signaled that Chazaquiel was on its way to him now. The JASDF fighter-bombers would be of no concern if they arrived. He wouldn't have anything to worry from air superiority fighters, either, once he was back onboard. That also went for any American aircraft that might intrude on his personal space. There was no surface to air missile in the world that could touch the Bat in full ECS stealth mode.

Lucas's legs had recovered quickest. He could stand up straight slowly, which he proceeded to do, in order to release the balloon without getting the spool fouled as the wire rolled upward. He released the balloon, hoping that nothing had been dislodged or bent during combat.

_The balloon went up as well as could be hoped! _

The seconds ticked away for what seemed like an eternity. He had no idea how much time had passed. And, glory be, the A.S.'s arms finally became functional again. Since he had to wait for the Bat anyway, he still had time to cut that girl into ribbons. Ready to ram the hook blade home, he was bitten by the unexpected once again.

"That fucking Bat had better not pull me up just as the blade is going down!" He smiled. "See… Leonard… I_ told_ _you_ I was going to win!"

**BWAMMMMMM-MMMMM-MMMM-MMM-MM-M WHOOOO-OOO-OOSH**

_Crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle scrackle crackle crackle crackle crackle_

It felt as if the Arm Slave had been struck by a hammer the size of Tokyo Bay! The left leg had been totally destroyed. Flames spread all over Lucas's right leg, flowing into the joint cavities of the hip as the A.S. fell hard on its front.. A growing black trail of smoke rose skyward from the prone machine, content to move slowly, and let the balloon win the race.

Miyamoto sprawled unconscious in his pilot's seat.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**EDGE OF THE BATTLEFIELD**

It almost looked like a crazed club scene, at the other end of the pathway.

Lights were shining this way and that, red spinning off of police cars and fire trucks, and blue flashing off of ambulances. Blinkers tossed intermittent patches of yellow here and there. Trucks lights parked at different angles shot out long beams of white. If things lasted long enough, some forward thinker would turn on a pair of huge searchlights he had trucked in. Sets of shooting and smoking flares were out, marking areas as off limits to civilians.

There was a military man by the look of it, who was gesticulating this way and that, speaking through megaphone. He almost seemed like a DJ. The workers moving up and down in their tasks could be the dancers.

_The Arm Slave battle had already lasted longer than most ever did. _

That might explain why no one was in a rush to stop the fight. They thought that it would end any second. Most preferred to clean up the mess, or at most confine the conflict. A line of soldiers had advanced halfway up the path, but were prone now, rifles out, and watching through binoculars. Helicopters darted about like hummingbirds, but they were news copters, not military or police.

"Between a fucking rock-" Tamon Suzuki said to himself. "- And a fucking hard place." If he walked down the path, he would probably be detained, especially since someone must have seen him toting around the RPG30. If he headed back the other way, he might end up like Kitanyan or Black Banchou, if any more of those metal wenches were showing off their legs, or if that orange motherfucker decided to do some pest control. He could try to sneak off to one of the sides, but it was hard to do the ninja routine dressed in a big red panda costume!.

_He stood there staring for a while, and the world just seemed content to stare back._

"I can say that the stupid ass bear held a gun at me-" The mascot actor continued. "-And fucking forced me to come. Yeh. That's it. I was kidnapped threatened with terrible things. Who's to say differently?" That pink doofus was probably dead by now.

"You're still alive… good…." That voice belonged to Hiroshi, who just showed up.

"_M-M-M-M-"_ Tamon was caught off guard. What was that thing? Another kind of killer robot? **"Motherfuck!"** He started to run towards the police. His mind was too frazzled to realize that the newcomer had spoken.

"_Hey!"_ Hiroshi reached out to grab Retsuko with Gloomy's paw. After he closed the with a vice grip, the arm went dead, the last muscle strand finally giving out. He didn't laugh, even though the frightened mascot looked rather comical, running in place. "It's me… Hiroshi… Gloomy Bear… settle down…."

"Don't fucking scare me like that, for Christ's fucking sake!" Tamon stopped running. "Let me fucking _go."_

"Hold on," Hiroshi said. He used the suits other hand to open the first, just before it too went down. "I got here just in time." The glow on the internal panel lights were going off one by one. He pulled down hard on a cord which caused locking mechanisms to unlock. Grunting in pain when he pushed, he opened the front of the suit in clamshell fashion.

"Man," Tamon said, looking the other mascot actor over. "You look beat up pretty bad. You're damn lucky you got out alive." He did a body builder's pose. "Me… I don't have a single scratch on me. That way, I don't have to spend any of my earnings on medical bills…."

"**Great!"** Hiroshi said, clapping his hands, and immediately regretting the act. He winced. "I need some helping hands. I doubt they-" He pointed at the soldiers, who were up and advancing again. "-Will do me any favors."

"_Huh?"_ Tamon sounded wary. "Why are you telling _me _that?"

"Because you and I are going to grab my ATGM, and high tail it back into the action." Hiroshi began scanning the ground where he had left the Spike. The area was covered with broken trees and dirt that had been kicked up by explosions and the arrival of the orange Arm Slave. Was the weapon still visible. Was it still in working order?

"Oh no," Tamon said, holding his hands up in front of him and shaking the panda's head. _"Ohhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h_ no. Not me. No way. You want to a hero, go ahead. But leave _me _out of it."

"I thought you were a soldier once," Hiroshi said, feeling indignant. "Weren't you tasked with saving lives?"

"Yup," Tamon said. _"Was_. Story of my life. _Was_ going to be a dentist like Momma wanted. Got kicked out for cheating. _Was _going to be a soldier; but turns out I was a lover, not a fighter, and I got kicked out again. It's not much, but I like what I got. I sure as shit don't want to be kicked out of life."

"And you don't mind if the whole world sees you as a coward?" Hiroshi pointed up at the circling whirlybirds. "They've probably filmed everything you've done… and _haven't _done…."

"Fuck'em," Tamon said. "Let'em. I don't fucking care. I'm going to be laying on a Caribbean beach somewhere, while my money is collecting ten-percent!"

"Money," Hiroshi said in a contemplative way. "Hmmm. How would you like _my_ share. Simple job. Over and done with _realllll-llll-lll-ll-l_ quick. Give you a story to tell all of the pretty girls at the bar."

"**Sure!"** Tamon blurted out, before even hearing the deal. "I mean… what _is_ this job?" He looked out over the battle field. Things were not going well for the girl and her white A.S. "Rescue mission? There probably ain't gonna be anything to rescue by the look of it. I sure as shit don't want to be swept away by all _that!"_

"We _won't,"_ Hiroshi claimed. "We're going to take charge. The tide doesn't control a ship, the sailor does! All _you_ have to do is drive me there. I'll do the rest."

"Don't look now, bubs." Tamon said. "But I think your little mechanical toy is all broke. What are you going to do, walk up and kick that thing in its big orange plums?"

"I brought a weapon," Hirposhi said. "And yours is over there." He pointed to the RPG30, ten yards behind them. "I'll look for the Spike, while you fire up one of the UTV's. There's an opening through this wall now, and once we pass through it, we can drive around the periphery of the wreckage."

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Tamon had Retsuko's hands on her hips now.

"Why," Hiroshi replied. "Is there more than one type? How about this. How about a rich idiot?"

"Well…." Tamon wavered. The Force was strong in that one. "Okay. I'll see if I can drive the thing like this." He was holding an internal debate. He was leaning towards taking the UTV and driving into the loving arms of the authorities. When he passed by the broken brick wall, and headed over to the RTX-X900 he called out: "There's weapons over here." Shit. Why did he say that? Sure enough, the other man came over in a hurry, grimacing as he walked.

"**Wow!"** Hiroshi picked up the Shmel. He looked it over. Someone had already loaded it. He also saw a discarded Carl Gustaf, and a dropped munition. He didn't know how to load and prep that, so the Russian weapon it was. "I don't know the name, but I'm liking the game. This will do. I'll climb on back." He jumped on the rear platform of the nearest UTV. "Fire it up. Let's roll!"

The RPO-A Shmel… known in Russian as the Rocket-propelled Infantry Flamethrower-A Bumblebee… is a man-portable disposable rocket launcher, although it is classified as a flamethrower by its manufacturer KBP. Each weapon contains a single rocket, of which there are three varieties. The basic rocket is the RPO-A, which has a thermobaric warhead and is designed for attacking soft targets under moderate cover. The RPO-Z is the incendiary warhead designed to spread fire and ignite targets. There is a smoke-producing warhead, the RPO-D. This weapon was none of those. The Shmel-M, reloadable, is a next-generation version of the RPO-A Shmel with dramatically increased range and blast yield. This was the Amalgam derivative, the Shmel-MA, and it was far more effective.

"I-" Tamon wobbled this way and that, looking as if he were about to keel over. "I think I've suffered a concussion. Could even be a stroke. Wouldn't want to die of one of _those._ Maybe I should seek medical assistance."

"I'll do a quick field Neurology exam." Hiroshi put the weapon down on the Kubota. "Okay. First, make a fist and put it under your… her… chin. Good…." He couldn't believe that the other guy did what he said. "Now. Move your knee up to there." He tapped on Retsuko's right knee and right shoulder. "You're doing great!" He then kicked the mascot's right foot as hard as he could, driving its fist hard into its chin. "You _passed!"_

"**You son of a bitch!"** Tamon thumbed Retsuko's nose with her hand, and then held both hands up like a boxer. _"Fuck!_ That hurts!" Hiroshi had poked fingers into both of the red panda eye slots. "Wise guy, huh?"

"Time is money," Hiroshi said, putting an emphasis on the last word. "And… speaking of money…." There. That word again. The effect was near magical. "If you want your money… plus my money… all the money…" He pointed out at Arbalest. "You better hope she lives. That's the goose that lays the golden eggs. Right?"

"Shiiiiii-iiiii-iiii-iii-ii-it-tttt-ttt-tt-t." Tamon hung his head. "That's _true."_ He had kind of forgotten about that part. "Well, what are you waiting for. There's a damsel in distress. The whole world is watching. This is our time to shine. We'll get that orange bully to say uncle. Let me at him. I'll _murderize_ him. Nyuck nyuck nyuck."

They were off. No one in their right mind would mistake Tamon and Hiroshi for Timon and Puumba, or any other paring from buddy movies or road flicks. This definitely bore no resemblance to 'Easy Rider' or 'Thelma and Louise.' 'Pee-wee's Big Adventure' or 'Dumb and Dumber,' maybe.

Minutes later, the two men were driving along at good speed, Hiroshi holding on for life, foot through the strap of the Shmel, and RPG30 slung from one aching shoulder. When Tamon ran over a large swell, he was airborne for a few moments. The Arm Slaves were growing bigger by the instant, as they sped along parallel to an empty street, all traffic diverted. He barely caught sight of the onlookers on the other side of the avenue, as they were little more than blurs.

"**My money!"** Tamon shouted out, one hand slipping from the wheel. The UTV swerved this way and that. The quick little scene looked like something out of the Keystone Cops, as Hiroshi swung this way and that, weapons bouncing around, his body and ATGMs at impossible angles. _"He's kicking the shit out of her!"_

"Eyes… on… the… road…" Hiroshi shouted not long after that, coughing as the swinging strap of the RPG30 choked his neck. That idiot driver had turned to wave at the crowd when someone yelled out "You go, Retsuko!" He shouted back "I will try my best to get it done. I have the power of Death Metal and Anime on my side."

After that, things were indeed a blur for the beaten and battered Hirsoshi, until the UTV slid hard sideways to a stop, almost flipping over. They were as close to the ASes as the altered topography would allow. They might have done all their heroics for nothing. As it turned out, the orange Arm Slave had pinned the white one down. There didn't seem to be much hope of an escape for that girl, now.

"We'll have to hoof it, then." Hiroshi said. He put the RPG30 down and hopped off of the vehicle. _"Hurry._ By the look of that flickering light, the shield is covering the white machine and not the orange one. We might be able to do some damage." He had been told by the girl where the most vulnerable areas were. If there was an open area of damage at the waist of the machine, a shot might damage the power source. Any other areas of damage would be next best.

"Good plan," Tamon said. "You go ahead. I'll guard our ride. Some of those rowdies look like they might try and steal it." He pointed over to a group of elderly women with walkers… a blind man with his seeing eye dog… and a legless boy in a wheelchair.

"-" Hiroshi bit off his initial retort. "You do that. I _knew _that you were a real man. I knew that you didn't care about all… that… money…." He coughed. That would plant a seed. "If something happens to me… or my shot misses… _you're_ all that we have left."

"You betcha," Tamon said. He had Retsuko salute Hiroshi. "Go get'em, Tiger!" He shrugged. "I mean… Bear…."

By the time Hiroshi got a clear view of the action, the orange machine… which had been unmoving a while… began to stand up. A hatch opened on the large box on its back. He could hear a loud hissing noise, as if there was large cobra somewhere. A folded balloon in the box flipped out, attached to a thick cable. That balloon began filling rapidly with some sort of lighter-than-air gas.

"Where-" He said. He noticed a large number of points of damage on both legs of the orange A.S. There was a particularly inviting one at the top of the left leg, near the hip joint. _"There's _my bitch…." Now he had to figure the weapon out, lickety split. He didn't pay attention to the quickly rising balloon. He winced when he heard a shout.

_Someone else had._

"**Not on my watch!"** Tamon said. "Get your dirty paws off of my money!" He fired the rocket propelled grenade. But, like a cat distracted by a moving toy, he had targeted the balloon. Only he knew why.

_The projectile missed._

"No pressure," Hiroshi said to himself, knowing that the Shmel was there only shot now, so to speak. The weapon's sight and a pistol grip were near the front of the tube. A large domelike covering was present just inside of the mouth of the tube. So, guessing the way to point things was a piece of cake. There was a trigger. There was a safety, which he clicked off. He put the weapon on his shoulder and sighted the injured area on the Arm Slave. He had to hurry. The A.S. was moving an arm… an arm with a huge hook blade. About fifty meters from his prey, he called out: "Fire in the hole!" A long cylindrical trail of smoke showed the path of the munition. He jumped behind a tall and thick Stone Lantern at the edge of a Shinto shrine.

**BWAMMMMMM-MMMMM-MMMM-MMM-MM-M WHOOOO-OOO-OOSH**

A bright flash of flame heralded the massive burning djinn of a conflagration that followed. The blast of the standard 90 mm Shmel-M munition is equivalent in power to 152 mm high explosive artillery shell, or equivalent to six kilograms of TNT. This percussive blast was many times that. In addition, the warhead created a fireball with a radius of twenty meters and a casualty radius around one hundred fifty meters. The blast of the Shmel-MA did to Lucas what Sousuke's shot had done to those trees. His load had been an 'M' rocket, not 'MA' like Hiroshi's. The front row of spectators were afflicted with second degree and third degree burns, after the blast wave knocked them down like ten pins. The furthest of the onlookers were lucky to escape with first degree burns.

_Crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle scrackle crackle crackle crackle crackle_

The blast had nearly blown the left leg off of Lucas completely. Fire licked at the surface of the target's right leg, and then flowed like a living elemental thing into the gaping wound, as the A.S. was sent down face first. Smoke boiled out from the leg joint and rose upwards into the sky, which was clearing some now, giant shafts of light illuminating the area, as if Hachiman had been watching and was showing his approval.

The blast wave struck so hard, that the ornate top of the lantern actually rocked and almost fell on Hiroshi, who had stared in awe as a wave of burning air had blown past him on either side of the lantern base. The heat he felt have him saying a prayer for Kaname Chidori and anyone else in the general vicinity.

"We should have brought some marshmallows," Tamon said, walking up a short while later, the tips of Retsuko's ears smoking and her tail looking like it had been roasted. He felt like he deserved a fair share of the victory. His belly rumbled. It _was_ a victory, wasn't it?

Hiroshi pumped his fist, feeling an intense feeling of satisfaction and success. Unarmed now, he began to back away from the scene, feeling conflicted. Was the girl okay? Did she need his assistance? The balloon, making a fluttering noise as it was buffeted by strong wind gusts, caught his attention briefly.

_What was _that_ all about._

It didn't matter. Nothing could be more dramatic than everything that had just happened.

Right?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**SANEATSU PARK**

Enough power returned, so that the dim lighting became bright again.

The terrible sound of whining servos, working against a blanketing force that wouldn't give way, suddenly ceased. An acrid odor born from overstrained diodes and capacitors wafted around the cockpit; but that, was no concern now. Air handlers could now vent that smell outside.

"We had no recourse before that intervention," Sousuke said, still rattled in a good way after turn of events. "There should have been no way to escape that!" He was relieved, but not exactly ecstatic. Camera systems were regaining focus, and he still had only a vague idea what the enemy was doing, if anything. "Now _that_ was a deus ex machina!"

_It truly had been._

Who could possibly have guessed that Leonard Testarossa would intervene when he did, and the way that he had?

"I fail to see why you revisit that subject," Al remarked, shocking the bejesus out of his pilot. "We find ourselves in a situation fraught with peril and uncertainty. There is no room for looking backwards. We must move forward."

"-" Sousuke had no response for that one hundred eighty degree turnabout. Had that been sarcasm? Tunnel vision? A reset in the A.I.'s thought process? "Why can't we move, pal?" He moved the control levers. Nothing happened.

"The stress and strain were so great, that all muscle strands have temporarily shut down," Al reported. "Also... we took so much physical abuse... that some of the more sensitive circuits have decreased their functions, or have stopped working. I am looking for alternative pathways."

"Shut down? During battle?!" Sousuke was incredulous. "What idiot programmed _that _in?"

"Unknown," the computer replied.

"I mean, what purpose could it possibly serve, with death on the line?" Sousuke shook his head. That head hurt a great deal, as did much of Kaname's body. Both 'he' and Al would need a full diagnostic when this was done. But, there would be no justice. He would get an earful about damage to the A.S., and an earful for damage to Kaname. The A.I. would get off like a bandit!

"Unknown," Al answered.

"Did they think that the enemy would politely wait while we regained function?" Sousuke flicked a number of switches on and off. That didn't do anything to speed the recovery process up. Each strand was being assessed, tested, and put back online, or had been sent to the back of the queue to be retested again.

"Unknown," the A.I. said. "I will save you the trouble of asking the follow-up question. Unknown."

"-" Again Sousuke blinked rapidly in disbelief. That must be sarcasm, right?! There were some moods and nuances that a machine did_ not_ need to imitate or assimilate! He ran his hand this way and that over a small ball-mouse type of device, swiveling the outside cameras.

The orange A.S. was not moving. But, until its strength and mobility returned, Arbalest could not take advantage of the situation.

"**Dammit!"** Sousuke smacked a hand hard down on the control console, chipping one of Kaname's fingernails. As he watched one particular screen, the number of green lights was increasing rapidly, but were far outnumbered by the yellow and the red. He took time to call in to Da Danaan and gave them a full rundown. In return, they filled them in on their situation. All land-based threats had been deemed red herrings; or, if real, had been snuffed out. The drone attack had been neutralized without significant damage or any casualties. F35s were fueling, and were being fitted with a concealed bomb load, stealth abilities necessary in Japanese airspace.

_A pair would arrive on scene within fifteen to twenty minutes._

"Sergeant," Al said. "Have we just taken out a new lease on life?" The A.I. had just happened upon that phrase during its latest foray into the internet.

"Affirmative," Sousuke answered.

"Then-" The A.I. continued. "-Without questioning your judgment, why didn't we go so far as to purchase a new life? Leases can be revoked, can they not?"

"-" If this kept up, Sousuke would need a speech therapist. "You figure it out, chatter box!" He was hot under the collar, frustrated from sitting there helpless, while the enemy may even be in a worse state of readiness and therefor vulnerable… or in a better state, and once again a huge threat.. He could kill Mr. Magnesium now with nothing more than one of the ARX-7's bare hands now.

_If only they could move!_

"Chatterbox?" Al asked. "Searching. 'Chatterbox' is a 1977 American comedy film about a woman with a talking vagina. The film stars Candice Rialson as a hairdresser who discovers her vagina has the power of speech after it derisively comments on a lover's performance. Her talking vagina has a mind of its own, which includes a desire to sing; they wind up exploited by her psychiatrist, who launches her on a career in show business." There was a pause. "Sergeant… why that appellation? Does Miss Chidori's body have a vagina that can speak?"

"I'll… let… you… ask… her… that…." Sousuke said. The A.I. was worse than a talkative two year old. Then again, if Al did that, the computer would _not _be the one to bear the brunt of the blue-haired barrage. "No." He had a very evil thought. "When we are safe back aboard the TDD-1, ask Captain Testarossa that. _She_ should know."

_No doubt she would have the garrulous machine reprogrammed._

"Duly noted," Al replied, not suspecting anything.

"Even an M6 would serve now," Sousuke said to himself, thinking about their situation now. But, should he wish for a troop of those to appear? They might well attack Arbalest as well as the other Arm Slave. The current circumstance was dicey enough. Japan should not be allowed to gain access to either advanced A.S.

Time passed. Sousuke thought about calling the lab again, to reassure the watchers. But, he didn't know what to say. He couldn't claim an impending victory or a draw, and he couldn't promise that he could not still be defeated. For the first time since the battle began, he thought back to the dilemma that awaited him, should he leave the battle victorious and alive. Was it too late to get his own body back? If there was, had Kaname and the team at the laboratory been able to arrange for safe and successful transfer?

"Sergeant, we have movement." Al said. "Let me clarify. The enemy is moving. We are close to being able to move ourselves."

Sousuke watched a monitor as the orange Arm Slave stood up. He could not get a full view, unable to see above the waist of the other machine at that distance and angle.

"**Shit!"** Sousike swore. The other A.S. had turned to face them. There was no trace of Lambda Driver force; but, that wouldn't be necessary for Mr. Magnesium's triumph. That remaining hook blade. The belly cutter. One strong fist. Any of those could spell their doom.

"Arm functions have returned," the A.I. reported. "Leg function ramping up quickly. Lambda Driver is still down."

"There's no other choice." Sousuke moved one control lever, twisting and pulling back one arm. Arbalest's arm nearest the enemy was the only thing that could reach. He would grab the leg he saw, and either pull himself up to where he could grapple, or trip his opponent. "Get ready to grip tight pal!" Arbalest began reaching for the orange machine's ankle

**BWAMMMMMM-MMMMM-MMMM-MMM-MM-M WHOOOO-OOO-OOSH**

Sousuke felt the pressure before he saw the bright light, before flame blinded all of the cameras for a moment, and the wave of heat blew past Arbalest. Laying flat on the ground, the ARX-7 took a relatively minimal blow itself. The true danger followed soon thereafter

_Crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle crackle_

The light was replaced by a fiery glow. The glow was accompanied by an intense wave of heat. Only one kind of weapon could do this. A thermobaric one. "I wonder if someone repurposed my weapon," he asked himself. He swallowed hard. Temperature gauges were spiking dangerously high. He reached out to check the cabin wall. Big mistake. It was rather hot to the touch.

"Outer skin still intact," Al reported. "There will be a lot of blistering, however. It looks like I will need to be buffed and shined when we return home." There was a pause. "We will not know if any joints are fused until we attempt movement. The surge in temperature may have prompted development of hot spots in the reactor. I am checking to distinguish bright spots caused by direct heat flux from random readings caused by high-energy radio-frequency reflections."

_They could be in dire shape. _

But, barring some Black Technology miracle, the enemy machine should be in a much worse state. The young soldier hoped that the explosion signaled an end to the orange A.S., or at least its driver.

What kills people in thermobaric explosion is the pressure wave, and more importantly, the subsequent vacuum, which ruptures the lungs. If the fuel deflagrates but does not detonate, victims will be severely burned and will probably also inhale the burning fuel. Moreover, the effect of a Fuel Air Explosion detonation within confined spaces is immense. Those near the ignition point are obliterated. Those at the fringe are likely to suffer many internal, and thus invisible injuries, including burst eardrums and crushed inner ear organs, severe concussions, ruptured lungs and internal organs, and possibly blindness.' But, inside of the orange monster, the pilot may have been significantly shielded.

_These are not the weapons of civilized human beings. _

"I would normally would never use that against a human being," Sousuke claimed. "Not the way that the Russians and Syrians do. But, if it's my life or theirs…." There are some people who think that use of that class of weapons should be classified a War Crime, since they cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering. He wondered if someone outside of Mithril might want his head after this and his prior tree torching. No. It was more than that.

_He wondered if someone_ within_ Mithril would._

Against inanimate objects, the fuel in thermobaric munitions can rapidly diffuse into tunnels, caves or bunkers, producing considerably high heat effect for habitants and/or ammunition. It could possibly enter joint spaces or external metallic wounds of an enemy Arm Slave. If he was really lucky, it might enter the air-handling system, or at least make it inoperative. Amalgam had developed new energetic materials with enhanced-blast properties, including shock resistant energetic nanoparticles. That gave the initial explosion significant penetrative power.

_But, new generation Arm Slaves could probably keep their occupants safe, even if they themselves were destined for a scrap heap._

No doubt the enemy was off his game, to say the least. Now would be a good time for Arbalest to act. Sousuke had the A.S. grab hold of the opponent's remaining leg, still feeling somewhat disoriented himself. It had certainly been a day of surprises and shocks. Why should it stop now? There was a strong jolt and he felt Arbalest shudder. It wasn't a brief motion, the type one might expect if the enemy was trying to kick him off of its leg. This was constant movement, as if he and his machine were being dragged along a certain vector.

"Gyroscopic readings indicate that we are ten-degrees off vertical," Al declared. "Our legs are not fully functional… I am not standing. Warning. Warning, Sergeant. My feet are no longer on the ground. Awaiting order to release hold."

"I see," Sousuke replied, swiveling one camera downward. The distance from the ground was increasing at a precipitous rate. "It feels as if we are in flight." He opened his mouth to order release. He closed it without speaking further.

"Not plane, nor bird, nor even frog…." The A.I. said. "It's just little old me… Under Dog."

"**Shit,"** Sousuke swore, slapping a hand against Kaname's forehead.

_What _else_ could he have said?_

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_Well, that's pretty much the A.S. battle. Can you guess what comes next?_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Note:

_While writing parts of this chapter, I was listening to a Thrash mix tape: Destruction… Exodus… Slayer… Death Angel… Vio-lence… Metallica… Sodom… Testament… Anthrax… Nuclear Assault… Xentrix… Megadeth… Kreator… Overkill… Sepultura… Annihilator… and Forbidden. And after that I put on Vivaldi's Flute Concerto No. 3 in D, P. 155 'Il Cardellino'; Bassoon Concerto in B flat, 'La Notte'; Concerto in D major for Oboes & Strings; and Concerto in C major for 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, and strings. And then, in honor of Leonard, it was 70s Progressive Rock, something somewhat pompous… fascinating… and destined to fade away. How could I not start off with Pink Floyd's 'Shine On You Crazy Diamond' and 'Time'?_

Maybe that explains some things….


	22. Chapter 22

_Having roughed everything in, this is the second-to-the-last chapter, unless you count the future 'Epilogue', yet to be penned._

_So, maybe this is like a long rollercoaster ride that you realized you hated, moments after you left the station, fated to remain onboard until the ride is finished. Hopefully you won't throw up when you step out of the coaster car. And don't stand up during the final chapters!_

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**IN THE LABORATORY**

The scene in the laboratory had calmed down considerably.

At first, having heard storied about Sousuke and Arbalest, most of the people in the room had assumed that Sousuke was going to win. They were hoping for a kickass-fight, something better than any pay-for-view contest could hope to match… with Sousuke winning a close fight in the end.

Everyone had shouted cheers and made exclamations of support. It had been a remarkably raucous place.

Now, with all that had happened, many in the room doubted that he had even a snowball's chance in Hell. They all looked at Kaname… Sousuke's body…. as if she would be the grieving 'woman' from the tragedy of their choosing. They almost felt a rush to get their words of condolence out now, even though she hadn't lost someone dear to her yet. Some felt sick at heart, feeling as if Sgt. Sousuke Sagara of Mithril was fighting for _them,_ too.

"I'm alright," Kaname told Anne, having just wiped away another tear. "I'm more worried about _him_, than I am for _me._ You know what I mean." She accepted a Kleenex box from a kindly technician and blew her nose. She frowned when Dr. Necessiter called out "Sounds like an eighteen wheeler," as if she were an air horn.

Dr. Hfuhruhurr pulled one hand down, mimicking a pit boss at a quarry, tugging on a whistle cord, signaling the end of the work shift. _"Toooo-ooo-oo-o!"_

"What would I do without the two of them," Kaname said sourly.

"A heck of a lot better, I imagine. "Anne said. "I think after all of this is over, the club owners should look at splitting up the band, if you know what I mean. With all of the new scientific leads that we've scribbled down in the past day or two, there will be more than enough research for a couple of new high priority laboratories."

"Well, maybe that's for the best." Kaname said sadly. "But… don't tell either of them this… it will give them even _bigger_ heads…I am certainly thankful that they were both here today. Things wouldn't have turned out the way that they have, if it wasn't for those two characters."

"You seem to have a thing for characters, _right?"_ Anne nodded her head towards the television set, where Arbalest was fighting a close-in battle with the other Arm Slave.

"Well… hah hah…." Kaname could manage nothing more than a weak mock laugh. She felt claustrophobic, as if the room was closing in on her. "You know… he _does_ work hard to protect me… and we are the same age and all…." The way that the other woman looked at her plainly said 'I know there's more than that,' and 'If that boy wasn't the Guiness Book of Record's top entry for cluelessness, I know that you would want more… maybe even a great deal more.' She sighed, and hugged 'herself.' "He's just so-"

"Dense?" Anne offered. "Doesn't know how the game is played?"

"Affirmative," Kaname said on purpose, feeling that Sousuke was a tiny bit closer that way. "He is always putting his life on the line for me when I need it. But… well… it's not as if I haven't returned the favor… I _have_…." She sighed. "But this time… this time he's caught up in things because I didn't want my high school career put on hold…." She rubbed both temples. "If he should…."

"It's a little too early for guilt, _isn't_ it?" Anne remarked. "You didn't reach down inside of your man purse… take out an A.S…. and shoot it over to him, _right?_ Mithril sent it over. No one forced him to climb onboard."

"That's true," Kaname replied. "And the big jerk probably did something that pissed the other A.S. guy off!" She swallowed hard and tried to be the plucky heroine in a hero's body. "When he gets back here, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. Uhh-hh-h." That was a Sousuke noise! "I've already done that-" She froze, her eyes going wide.

"It might work both ways," Anne quickly put in, correctly guessing Kaname's thought process. "You've come up with some important contributions today that seemed out of character or out of context, right? Who's to say that some key thing that he did today… or might do now… doesn't owe a lot to his Class Representative?"

"Right," Kaname said, nodding and wiping he nose. "Hah hah hah." She ran a hand through Sousuke's hair. "But the doubt comes and goes, like I'm playing ping pong with myself. I mean… it's the same with my hope and my fear… it's like they've tuned my mind into a movie screen. Sometimes, I'm really happy, thinking the good guy has to win in the end. But then, I remember, there are plenty of movies with a sad ending. I don't want our real life to be like one of those Japanese anime stories with a sad finish."

"So," Anne said, frowning. Doctors Hfuhruhurr and Necessiters had entered their orbit again. She gave them a 'this is very personal' grimace;' but, that only made them grin and step closer. "Is there any particular film you are relating to?" The young woman's answer should prove insightful. "Where the good guys struts off stage triumphant? After a tough or sad beginning?"

"Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back'," Dr. Hfuhruhurr suggested, having only heard the 'sad' part. "It might not be as much of a downer when you consider it's the middle part of a trilogy, but there's no doubt that the film stands as one of the greatest examples of a film where the heroes lose at seemingly every turn."

Anne put a finger to her lips and narrowed her eyes. Did that man _ever_ hear himself talk?

"That's right, Furbie," Dr. Necssiter said. "That reason alone is why the film is considered to have one of the best cliffhanger endings of all-time. Maybe we'll have Sousuke hanging from something today!" He posed when Dr. Hfuhruhurr gave him a thumbs up. "When Luke is separated from Han, Leia, and the rest of the gang for the film's middle act, things start to get exciting when it's clear the characters are on their way toward a reunion, presumably to triumph over Darth Vader and the Empire. But even before Luke gets there, it's clear things will _not_ be that simple."

"What fun would that be," a bumbling engineer said, dropping a slide rule and kicking it across the floor. Before running after it, he finished by saying. "We don't want no stinking easy wins!" From a distance, after picking up the wayward item, he added: "Han is frozen in carbonate and handed over to Boba Fett. Luke arrives just in time to fall into Darth Vader's trap. And just when you think the boy is holding his own with Yoda's training, his hand is cut off, sending his lightsaber spiraling into Cloud City's air shaft as Darth Vader gives the infamous revelation, 'I am your father'."

"But they **do **win in the end, _right!"_ Kaname tried to sound more chipper than she felt. "They all live, and Darth Vader turns good, and shows up smiling with Obi-Wan and Yoda in ghost form."

"Maybe the guy in the orange A.S. is Sagara's long lost brother, separated at birth!" A technician said, as if this was some corny novel or sitcom.

"Or his ex-lover," a Security woman put in, licking her lips. "Coming to get _his _revenge." She hugged herself, a dreamy look in her eye.

"Or one's a vampire," a pimple-faced communications tech offered. "And the other's a werewolf." He rubbed his hands together. "That's _always_ a kick ass fight!" He didn't see the incredulous look that Kaname gave him. Some people had left their brains along with all metallic items, when they had passed through the metal detectors at the hospital entrance.

"_Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h,"_ Anne shushed, immediately feeling foolish. She took a whistle out of her pocket… put it to her mouth… and blew on it. That would work better.

**Tweeeeeeee-eeeeeee-eeeeee-eeeee-eeee-eee-ee-e-eeeeeeeeeeeeee-!- !- !- !- !- !- !**

Everyone stopped with their unwelcome interjections, looking sheepish.

"I can do better than that," that woman Security guard spoke up again. "Empire was a happy ending in transit. For _true _tragedy, it's hard to top 'The Mist,' right?" She didn't know why they had gotten on the movie topic in the first place. _"Mrpfphrphl-"_ Anne had clamped her hand firm over her mouth. She didn't notice that someone snuck the whistle out of her lab coat pocket, or when the thief… Dr. Necessiter… spun it around his finger, before tossing it behind a huge stack of machines.

"You _betcha!"_ A hired contractor put his foot into the ring. "The movie was based on the Stephen King novella of the same name and revolves around a small town that becomes covered in a mist that holds otherworldly creatures. When survivors become trapped in a supermarket, tensions arise as some start to question whether they are experiencing a religious event."

"You never know," one of the leftover religious women said. "God's Creation is amazing, after all. Quantum Physics didn't create itself." That almost started a fight with some scientific types.

"Branching off from the printed work-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr began. "-Where five survivors drive off into the mist and their fate was uncertain… sort of like _our_ current situation… director Frank Darabont… the guy from 'The Walking Dead'… manages to cut out any ambiguity while making the ending even _more _bleak."

"Yeh," a custodian chimed in. _"Really_ dark. As the group of survivors travel through the mist, their spirits are crushed after they see an impossibly tall creature just before their vehicle runs out of gas. Believing they are all doomed, the group decides that death by gun is better than getting torn apart by the creatures. The protagonist then takes the gun and shoots all four passengers, including his son, before going outside to die after running out of bullets. But just then, the army rolls through the mist along with survivors from earlier in the film…."

"The five had been less than a minute away from being saved." The contractor said, happy to have been able to be involved in one of the high-brow conversations. The dim light bulb above his head flared to life when Anne gave him a look that would make a harpy piss herself. "I mean… that is to say… I'm _sure_ that the white A.S. has more than a minute left…."

Anne patted herself down, frantically. Where had she put that whistle?

"Those movies were rough in spots," a custodian said, stopping his mop work. Someone had brought in a Fanta Grape frozen slushie pack and knocked it onto the floor. Someone else had stepped on it. "But, you guys only take the bronze and silver medals." He held his mop handle upright, and put his weight on it, as if he were about to make a beer-powered speech in a smoky and seedy establishment. "The gold medal goes to one of the greatest films ever made, Roman Polanski's 'Chinatown'. It was a neo-noir starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway and was inspired by the California Water Wars at the beginning of the twentieth century."

"It is _also_ the name of a Thin Lizzy album," a grizzled and middle-aged electrical expert added. "You know…" By the look of it, no one did. "Not their best album by a longshot… but it did have 'Killer on the Loose'." He wondered why the young man with the scarred face flinched, and looked up at the television screen. "I know _some_one must remember that!" He began singing in a quiet voice:

"_Now I'm not trying to be nasty__  
__Or I'm not trying to make you scared__"_

"Wonderful," Anne said in a rush. "I just _have _to remember to invite you to the next Christmas party. I'm sure you'll be a _biggg-gg-g_ hit." She motioned for Kaname to follow her and began walking away. That action did not stop the conversation. Kaname just stood there, feet flat on the ground, and head somewhere in the clouds.

"Jake Gittes… the impeccable Jack Nicholson… was a private investigator who got roped into a case that eventually snowballed into something far beyond his control. He found out the hard way that he's incapable of standing up to the evil that Noah Cross… the immortal John Huston…represents. After Gittes made plans for Evelyn… the lovely Dunaway… and her daughter Katherine's escape to Mexico, he then confronted Cross who quickly forced him to lead them to the pair in Chinatown. Once they arrived, the police were already waiting and detained Gittes."

"My _myyy-yy-y,"_ Anne said sharply. "That sure was tragic. I can see why the Albanian judges gave it a 10." She purposely flicked her wrist behind her back. A large Styrofoam coffee cup, full nearly to the brim with the steaming beverage, hit the floor and exploded. **"Oh no!** Clean up in area Seven."

"**I'm on it!"** The mopsman ran to the spill, smiling when Anne said 'Attaboy,' when he slid to a stop, mop spinning like a large baton. Unfortunately for her, he could multi-task. And, he became even more animated as he worked. Before resuming his film critique, he said "You… Lizzy… kick me my bucket." He stopped the rolling and sloshing container with his foot and dropped the mop in. While using the roller to squeeze out the frothy liquid, he picked up where he had left off: "As Cross approached Katherine… his daughter of incest with Evelyn… Evelyn shot Cross in the arm and took off down the road in her car as the police opened fire, killing her. Then, Cross took Katherine and led her away as Gittes looked on helplessly. 'Forget it, Jake' they told him. 'It's Chinatown'."

"_Incest?"_ Dr. Necessiter said. "I _have _to see that movie."

"You had me at Faye Dunaway," Dr. Hfuhruhurr piped up. "Hubba hubba."

"But… well…." Kaname tried to laugh, but couldn't. "That ending's bad, I guess. But it's_ not_ like the hero died, _right?"_ She watched as the A.S. battled led to a reverse version of urban renewal.

"That's one of the most tragic endings in all of cinema," the custodian claimed, with some heat. He smacked his mop pole hard against the floor, causing small droplets of liquid to fly off in a circular pattern. "Gittes's attempts at fulfilling the usual role of the victorious private eye are dashed in all respects."

"Usually victorious," Kaname mouthed, confidence wavering.

"The police are unwilling to hear out the conspiracy he has discovered," the custodian added.

"Conspiracies," Kaname said, thinking of Amalgam.

"His love interest was killed-" The custodian was unstoppable. He didn't wonder why another beverage spill had occurred, further away than the last. No matter, he was _not_ too proud to shout. **"-And the villain succeeded in retrieving Katherine and fulfilling his plans." **

"Love interest killed?" Kaname felt her face grow warm. "The villain retrieves the young girl." She felt a chill go down her spine.

"**So,"** the custodian said with a flourish, spinning his bucket about lithely, a veritable maestro with a mop. **"Instead of being the winner at the end, Gittes was left knowing that not only has he lost every battle waged, but he is powerless to fight back against the enormous evil that exists in the world."**

"-" That last sentence had tears coming to 'Kaname's' eyes. Was Sousuke destined to be defeated? Was it her fate to be spirited away? She didn't want to be the cause of his death! Especially if she was doomed, anyway!

"**You!"** Anne pointed to the Security guard, next telling her _"You're fired." _She then grabbed a passing errand boy from the Coffee Shop… pinned the badge on him… and said "Welcome to Security. For your first job, take these people to a room and hold them until I call you." She pointed at the custodian. "Whatever your regular duties were, you are _now _the new 'Clogged Toilet Specialist'. Congratulations. That will require you to be on-call 24/7!" Cursing, she felt as if she had forgotten something. Negative images of two particular participants faded from her mind. Doctors Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter had already beat a hasty retreat.

They were worse than cockroaches when the light comes on!

"Do you still feel like talking?" Anne asked. "I apologize for all of those jerks. They really _should_ know better."

"Yes." Kaname said. "It's better right now for me to talk about something." She couldn't help but glance at the television. "_Any_thing."

"So," Anne said. _"Your_ movie?" Drs. Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter still were nowhere to be seen. She nodded approval. She gently turned Kaname's body so that she was no longer looking at the news footage.

"It's 'Cinderella Man'," Kaname said. "An American film starring Russell Crowe, Renée Zellweger and Paul Giamatti. It's based on a true story."

"I haven't seen that one," Anne admitted truthfully.

"James J. Braddock was a light heavyweight contender-" Kaname began. "-Who was forced to give up boxing after breaking his hand in the ring. This was both a relief and a burden to his wife, Mae. She could not bring herself to watch the violence of his chosen profession… yet, she knew that they would _not _have enough income for them or their kids without his boxing."

"Tradeoffs," Anne said, having lived through those herself. "Just like with you and the Sergeant. The more danger he puts himself in, the safer you are. You sometimes wish that you could shoulder the danger, to keep him safe. But, it's _his _job. And now, to him, it's more than just a job. So now you have to shoulder the fear and the guilt and the uncertainty. In a way… it's like teamwork."

"Yes," Kaname said softly. "The film was based on a time when the United States entered into its Great Depression. Braddock did manual labor as a longshoreman to support his family, even with his injured hand. Unfortunately, he could not get work every day. Thanks to a last-minute cancellation by another boxer, Braddock's longtime manager and friend offered him a chance to fill in for just one night and earn some cash. The fight was against the number-two contender in the world."

"Let me guess," Anne said. "The Little Engine That Could, right?"

"Uh huh," Kaname replied. "Braddock stunned the boxing experts and fans with a third-round knockout of his formidable opponent. He believed that while his right hand was broken, he became more proficient with his left hand, improving his in-ring ability. Despite Mae's objections, he took up his manager's offer to return to the ring. He kept winning. When his rags to riches story got out, a sportswriter dubbed him "The Cinderella Man", and before long Braddock came to represent the hopes and aspirations of the American public struggling with the Depression."

"Cinderella Man," Anne laughed. "That's kind of fitting. Kind of a gender-bending name… you know…." She coughed, feeling a bit of humor might be helpful, but still feeling a bit inappropriate. "But… for Sousuke… there's no fame. Nobody ever knows what odds he's fighting against. He should be the subject of admiration, but…."

"Well…_ I _know it," Kaname said, in a solemn tone. "Like Braddock, Sousuke is backed into a corner. He is the only one who can use Arbalest… and Arbalest has the only Lambda Driver in Mithril." She sounded exasperated, now. "But… I think… like the boxer… Sousuke _likes_ what he does…."

"And may never want to leave it?" Anne asked, sagely. "May never leave it, before _it _leaves _him_… the hard way…."

"It scares me," Kaname admitted. "For so many different reasons. Mae never had to worry if James was a violent man… he was wonderful with her and the kids. Sousuke… I…." She didn't want to follow that thought down the rabbit hole. "A title fight against heavyweight champion Baer came Braddock's way, with him listed as a 10-to-1 underdog. Mae was terrified because Baer was a vicious man who reportedly had killed at least two men in the ring. He was so destructive that the fight's promoter forced both Braddock and his manager to watch a film of Baer in action, just so he could maintain later that he had warned them what Braddock was up against."

"But he won, _right_…." Anne followed Kaname's gaze. She was watching the newsfeed again. The camera images showed Arbalest fighting a defensive battle, full of a few ups and a bunch of downs. "Or at least he walked away alive…."

"It was one of the greatest upsets in boxing history," Kaname reported. "Braddock defeated the seemingly invincible Baer to become the heavyweight champion of the world. He would later lose his title to Joe Louis, one of the best boxers in history, and a man who praised him for his toughness. Braddock later helped build the Verrazano Bridge, owning and operating heavy machinery on the docks where he worked during the Depression. He and Mae used his boxing income to buy a nice house, where they spent the rest of their lives."

"If it can happen once…." Anne said. "And if probably has happened many times across history…." She gave Kaname an expectant look.

"It can happen again," Kaname breathed. _"Please,_ Sousuke." She wanted to pull her gaze away, but was afraid what might happen if she did.

She suddenly felt very superstitious.

"**Great!"** Anne said, satisfied. "I was afraid it was going to be another one of those tragic endings. But, you didn't mention any of the bad parts of boxing, like gambling and throwing fights."

"Sousuke doesn't take part in anything like paid gladiatorial games," Kaname said. "And he'll never throw a fight." He couldn't. In most of his battles, losing meant dying. "

"I bet he wins for a different reason now," Anne said shrewdly, watching Sousuke Sagara's face. "It's one thing to fight because it's your job. It's better to fight for something… or some_one_…."

Time passed slowly for Kaname, eyes glued to the television set. Her emotions ran the gamut. They rose up, and slid back down quickly, like a rollercoaster from Hell. Just when it seemed like Sousuke was getting a break… and the Sling disappeared… the enemy broke out a Jai Alai-thingie. Then, that pink Bear Guy struck big time. She was furious when she saw the orange A.S. juggling cars containing cowering children. She clenched hers fists and called out non-vocal utterances each time Arbalest caught a falling automobile. Her heart jumped up into her throat, as she watched the white machine play the role of training dummy as the orange Arm Slave hit and kicked it with frightening abandon. Why wasn't Sousuke using the Lambda Driver? Maybe he needed her! She turned to look for a phone.

There was a sudden loud commotion across the room, over near the com-set. When Anne went stomping over to investigate, Kaname followed, wondering if her watching TV was the jinx after all. The two women pushed their way through a wall of spectators, most of them men. There was a white plastic bowl in the center of the open floor space. There were stacks of money everywhere, and one man… wearing four wristwatches… was rubbing his hands together. Other men watched with great interest. was shaking one hand. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes," he called out, before through dice that another man covered with the bowl. **"Remember!** _No IOUs!"_ The bowl was removed. "It's Cho!" He struck a victorious and overly flamboyant pose. _"Righteous!"_

The scientist's elation died the moment that he saw Anne. "Hi… Anne… you see…." He stuffed the winnings inside of his shirt… stood up… and started baking away. "I'm taking up a collection for Sousuke. The boy will probably need to be hospitalized here, after the battle and after the transfer process. This-" He patted his shirt. "-This will buy one heck of a fruit basket!"

"_And_ a hooker," the man who won the watches put in. "We can get him one dressed up as a nurse. He can use _his _thermometer to take _her_ temperature. Heh heh." He saw the look on Kaname's face. He backtracked faster than a centipede in reverse. He should have kept going. "No… _not _a hooker…" Indeed, he was not a very quick learner. "I meant _stripper_…."

"How could you," Annne shook a finger in rage. "That's not some sport to bet on." She waved towards the large TV. "And you know hospital rules. There's no gambling allowed."

"That's not entirely true," a junior level administrator said. "On special occasions, they allow charity gambling." That's a form of incentivized giving where a charity…or a group of charities… rather than a municipality or private casino… oversees gambling activities such as bingo, roulette, lottery, and slot machines and uses the proceeds to further its charitable aims. "The charity we're donating towards is Sergeant Sousuke Sagara." He turned to face Sousuke's body. "And Kaname Chidori."

"No hooker for _her!"_ the man with the watches said, nodding his head. "Unless she likes guys who look like Chippendales. I have a buddy who knows some guys…."

"Just a gigolo," Dr. Hfuhruhurr began singing. "Everywhere I go…people know the part…I'm playing. Paid for every dance…selling each romance…Ooh what they're saying."

"Don't quit your day job," the young executive suggested.

"Please _do,"_ Anne growled.

Kaname ignored all that. She felt conflicted. The gambling seemed inappropriate; but Dr. Hfuhruhurr and the others said that they were doing it for the benefit of the two of them, _not_ as a way to exploit their situation.

"Naturally, like usual charity gambling-" Dr. Hfuhruhurr explained. "-We will donate a substantial part of the funds to the boy and the girl." He struck another heroic pose. "According to the local Association of Charity Lotteries, ideally, the operational costs of the lottery do not exceed 20% of turnover, with the remaining 80% donated to the chaity or charities."

"You'll donate _**100%,"**_ Anne said, sternly. "And _then_ you will throw in some of your _own _money into the kitty, to make up for your gaff!" She narrowed her gaze. "After that you'll-" Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by an even louder roar. It came from the other side of the laboratory.

"**No!"** Kaname had turned to watch the news feed again. Sousuke was in bad straits! She brought a hand to 'her' mouth. Arbalest was now pinned on its back, unmoving. _"Oh no!_ Sousuke, please get up!"

"I _told _you he'd go for the pin," a voice called out loudly. **"Pay up!" **Anne began homing in on that voice, like a heat-seeking missile.

Kaname froze. Gambling again. This seemed so much worse than a dice game, though. Betting on what might happen in a fight like this… it was like uncaring people betting at a dog fight. Soiusuke was not some dog raised just for fighting!

She had, admittedly, viewed him as a chibi-dog with a cute chibi-Sousuke face at times in the past.

As Anne fought her wall through another wall of men, she heard a number of people wondering just what had happened, and why _neither_ A.S. was moving. Some called out new predictions, when the orange A.S. rose and stood again.

"There's an explosion. From an outside player!" One unseen man said.

Not that much later, something dramatic and unexpected happened, and the familiar voice of Dr. Necessiter called out: "Well, I bet no one saw _that one_ coming!"

"**I did!"** Finally making her way through, Anne saw the scrawny beanpole of a man who had shouted hold up a slip of paper. He handed it to the nearest man to validate.

"It reads 'flying'," the man said, incredulously.

"I'll be a monkey's uncle," Dr. Necessiter said, not making a reference to Reggie and the departed Adam and Eve. "Did you write down where they will land? Let me guess? Gilligan's Island!"

"Huh?" That noise came from many people at once.

"_Duh de duh duh de duhhhh de duh deeeeeeh_…." Dr. Necessiter said. "Yeh," he replied to one woman. "The one with the boat!"

"_Some_body may find himself on a deserted island," Anne said ominously. "There's all sorts of research to do in all sorts of backwater laboratories." Fed up, she called out for everyone to clear the room now, since the machines were all set to where they needed to be until Sousuke returned. She could care less that the gambling activities were intended to raise funds to support the two youths. Charity gamblers always need to be wise enough to consult with knowledgeable legal counsel prior to engaging in gambling activities, to ensure that such activities are conducted in compliance with applicable charitable gambling and solicitation laws.

The gamblers in this situation should have been wise enough not to gamble at all!

"Want to buy a raffle ticket?" A bespectacled grandame, support staff by the look of it, sidled up to Anne and next said: "We were also thinking of starting Mahjong, if you prefer that."

"Or there's Arm Slave Bingo over there." A technician pointed to a small cluster of people near the entrance.

"It's an **E**," a chubby church lady said. By luck, she had had a bingo set-up in the back of the church van.

"That makes S… A.. V… A… G…E." The woman who had previously decorated the machinery with Rube Goldberg cartoons clapped her hands like a little child. **"BINGO!"**

"Don't you think this would be more fun with some classy décor?" A communications tech asked no one in particular.

"**Right!"** An engineer nodded his head, and said. "We could _also_ televise things throughout the hospital… and take bets over the phone."

"Perfect timing," a FedEx delivery boy remarked. "I have the snails you ordered for racing."

"**I**… **said**… **stop!"** Anne yelled. No one heard her, or no one cared to listen.

"Let me, miss ma'am," a newly-arrived Security woman offered. She took out her pistol, and put three rounds into the ceiling, luckily missing sensitive equipment that dotted the upper reaches of the room.

That didn't work, either.

"**Gun!"** Anne held out her hand. She didn't confiscate it. She put it to use. "You're _all_ on my list!"

_***BANG***_

Dr. Necessiter put a hand to his chest, as if he were checking to make certain he was still intact. The television went black. There was a bullet hole, dead center.

The way that Anne stood, it looked like she was a Bond girl from an opening film sequence, or maybe a shoe-in for the first female 007.

Kaname hadn't heard that shot. No, it simply hadn't registered on her. An earlier TV image had left her stricken: two Arm Slaves rising into the sky.

What was going on?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**RISING ABOVE SOSHIGAWA PARK**

For a few seconds, the cockpit felt like it had zero gravity.

As Arbalest moved ever further upward, there was a strong feeling of horizontal motion. All viewscreens were in operation, showing ground, sky, and the immediate surroundings.

"There has been no movement," Sousuke remarked, referring to the orange Arm Slave. "Either the pilot is dead or severely injured… or he does not know we are here." He had expected the enemy to kick sharply or to reach back with his A.S.'s hand.

The front screen was now slaved to the cameras that showed the ground below. Part of that screen showed the crowd, which had now boiled out onto the street. Some must be helping the injured. But, as evidenced by spoardic flashes of light, some were taking photos with their cell phones and cameras.

"That-"Sousuke noticed the other noteworthy sights below just before they were too far away to see any more. "We-" The area of the battle was a scene of devastation, with building destroyed and pockmarks scoring ground and structures alike. There were clouds of dust and trails of smoke. "Urban areas are always-" He closed 'his' eyes and took a deep breath. What else could he have realistically done? Win the battle faster!

At least Jindai High School had been left untouched.

"Arm muscle strength is at 82 percent," the A.I. reported. "Bilateral. Left hand strength is at 86 percent. Right is at 84 percent."

There was the feeling of a sudden short drop, barely felt against the upward movement. Small pieces of metal and polymer bounced off the front of the ARX-7.

"**Shit!"** Souuske felt his sphincter tighten. "Is that-" He moved one camera. The hip joint of the orange machine was no longer on fire, and the smoke had decreased. But, what structural integrity did that coupling have? "Firing!" He aimed and fired the remaining wire gun. **"Dammit!"** A miss. The time it took to respool the cable felt terribly long. There was another small drop. "Firing again!"

Just as the wire gun fired, the enemy A.S.'s remaining leg detached. Arbalest was in freefall. The cable shot upward and wrapped around the balloon cable, forming a tight knot, and sliding down to be stopped by the balloon box.

"Today would be a good day to visit a racetrack or gambling casino," Al opined. "It seems it is your lucky day."

"Hanging from a cable high above the city," Sousuke growled. "Is **not** my idea of good luck!" He knew what the computer meant. He somehow resented the wording, which in a human would suggest good cheer. "Spend less time blabbing and more time finding a solution. Adjust the torque on the winch and spool in the wire cable, hopefully without dislodging the hold. Otherwise there won't be enough of you left to be put in a smart watch!"

"Retrieving cable now," Al reported. "There is some slippage; but, the device was made to hold this weight. At least it was, in pristine condition." There was no system dedicated to monitoring something as insignificant as that small winch.

"Here we go!" When the ARX-7 had risen sufficiently, Sousuke reached up with Arbalest's free hand and grabbed hold of the balloon box. **"No!"** The door to the box swung open, and began to tear free from its hinges. "What can I-" _That!_ The anti-armor dagger, now in hand, plunged into the back of the enemy. "Timing is everything-"

Arbalest only had two hands, of course. What came next could be tricky.

Sousuke had the ARX-7 shake one wrist abruptly, and then two times more, until the wire cable detached, and could be rolled up. With that hand, Arbalest grabbed hold of the balloon cable, as far up as it could reach. After the young soldier checked the grip a couple of times, trying to figure out how much friction was available, he held on tight, and retrieved the dagger. He swung up carefully, and gripped the cable higher with the other hand.

"What's our GPS, pal." Sousuke asked. "The cloud cover was low now, and they were entering the bottom layer. He could not make out individual buildings on any of the screens. Before long, there was the scent of ocean air.

"We are flying over the Pacific Ocean," Al replied. "I am gathering precise data from satellites now. If we hold this course, our destination would be Australia. The central areas of that continent could easily hold a vast runway system. Of course, the initial flight path could easily be a diversion, should any one catch sight of us. Vast open areas of Russia might make more strategic sense."

"No guts, no glory." Sousuke muttered to himself. He used a hand over hand motion to have Arbalest climb high enough so that he could place one foot on the top of the balloon box. "So-" Should he just ride things up like this, and act further when they reached the top? Or, should he take care of the enemy A.S. while he could? "Let's try _this."_ He had the A.S. squat some… removed one hand… and tried to see if he could pry the box off of the back of the enemy machine. The welds were too strong.

"Now we will see how good my luck _truly_ is," the pilot said. "This is crazy. But, the whole day has been like something out of a bad sitcom." He almost expected to wake up in the shower, to find out it had all been a dream. He took out the monomolecular cutter and fired it up. "Keep a close look at hand strength, pal."

There was a voice coming through the com-set. It was Mr. Magnesium. _ "Wh-wh-wh-" _The voice sounded groggy. **"What the fuck happened?"**

This was bad. The orange A.S., if it had any arm strength, could reach up and detach Arbalest with relative ease.

"Lucas?" Mr. Magnesium said. "Hey! _Lucas!"_ There was a slight pause, and then his voice went up a few octaves. _"Lucas!"_ Another pause, and a more frantic enquiry. _"Lucas,_ _Goddammit._ **What are you doing?!"**

"Is Lucas his Artificial Intelligence?" Al asked. The audio was being sent to the other A.S.

"That would seem a logical assumption," Sousuke said. He had decided to stick the psychological knife in, taking a very risky gamble. A trapped animal can be twice as dangerous as one that is free. But, a stressed adversary can be taken out of the game easier. "But… it could _also_ be his penis. He's a male model, so it may have finally decided to quit working." He laughed. _"Or_ it may have fallen off."

"**Shut up!"** Mr. Magnesium shouted. **"Shut the fuck up, you stupid **_**bitch**_**…."** Something was finally sinking in. "What? _How?"_ The radio signal was strong. The locator screen had the ARX-7's red dot practically enveloping Lucas's green dot. Swiveling a camera, her saw the reason for that. "Get… off… of… me." He tried levers, with no success. He flicked swtiches, pushed buttons, turned dials, all to no affect. **"They won't work! The arms won't work."**

"Thanks for that heads **up,"** Sousuke said. He did not feel safe yet, if only because he was in a precarious situation either way. For all he knew, the enemy could be putting on one hell of an act. His A.I. might be fine. The orange machines' arm function might be optimal. Just the same, he had to end this as quickly as possible. Who could say what was at the other end of that big cable? Troops? Another A.I.? He didn't want the Mr. Magnesium to start giving orders. "But I'm afraid that it's time for you to head **down."**

"Like a sweet muffin," Al put in, remembering what its pilot and Mr. magnesium had said earlier.

"**You can't do that!"** Mr. Magnesium said, with fury at first. **"You can't do that to **_**me!" **_Then, his voice cracked. He deflated like a balloon, and all that remained was a sickening whine. _"Please_… we can make a deal… I'm sure we can come to some kind of an arrangement…."

"I'll arrange for you to have some music-" Sousuke said, preparing for his next move. This is where things would get dicey. "-Since you were rocking so hard, _right?"_ He typed in a non-verbal command for Al. Power would be shunted to the muscle strands for the hands, leaving hands and legs dormant for now. "But, giving your situation, I figure it should be something appropriate. Elevator music comes to mind, right_._ Going down!" He grinned, thinking of something better. "No. Since you are Derek Zoolander… you can stop me with Magnum… _right?"_ He typed in another command for Al. He wanted him to find the song and band names for the song played in the Ben Stiller film.

_Maha, hiya  
Give it to me one time now  
Well-ell, no-oh, well-ell  
Now_

As the song began, Sousuke fired up the monomolecular cutter. He swung it down between Arbalest's legs, preparing to cut the cable's connection to its winch.

"Hah!" Mr. Magnesium said. He was not showing amusement at the song choice. The red lights blinking on one panel were now a solid yellow. "Hah hah hah!"

_Relax, don't do it  
When you want to go to it  
Relax, don't do it  
When you want to come  
_

_**Zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz-zizz**_

The cutter's teeth were cutting through the cable with ease with ease. Soon, the orange machine's connection was down to a few tough metal strands.

_Relax, don't do it  
When you want to sock it to it  
Relax, don't do it  
When you want to come  
When you want to come_

"Spread'em, slut!" Mr. Magnesium said. "Because you are _so _fucked! If I'm going to _go down,_ then you are going to _come_ with me!" He laughed at his own joke, as he moved Lucas's arm up and grabbed one of Arbalest's ankles. There wasn't enough strength to pull sharply; but, there _was _enough to hold on.

Sousuke stopped cutting, cursing at the top of his lungs. One eye on a view screen, he saw the last intact strand unravelling under the weight load of two Arm Slaves. For a moment, he thought about doing the 'fox caught in a trap' thing. Foxes often bite their own leg off to escape. He thought quickly, as he was wont to do. "Al. Vent all hydraulic fluid out of the left knee joint. Full force."

"Roger," the A.I. replied, following the command. Hose couplings were rerouted.

_Relax, don't do it  
When you want to go to it  
Relax, don't do it  
When you want to come  
Relax, don't do it_

Slippery fluid ran down Arbalest's leg, in a more liquid state than usual due to a fluid injected into the mix on extrusion. The fluid covered the orange gripping hand, and ran between and beneath its fingers. When the final connection between the severed ends of the cable gave way, that hand lost its grip.

Sousuke shut down the audio connection. He didn't need to hear anything that came next. The song was still playing in his cockpit, however.

_When you want to sock it to it  
Relax, don't do it  
When you want to come  
Ah, ah, ah…  
_

"Goo-oo-o!" Sousuke sang the next word as 'Go' rather than the true word, 'Come,' which was a song euphemism for 'cum.' He was amused by his own quip, and wondered if he was developing a sense of humor, or if that ditty was some kind of Kaname contribution. In any case, that was far too much time spent on levity. He had to focus on maintaining a grip. He had no idea how long the remaining cable was, or how far away they were from their final resting point.

"You changed words," Al took note. "Were you trying to be clever?"

Sousuke kept silent. Now was not a good time for the A.I. to go off the deep end. He did not shout. People often relax their grip when someone shouts. But, he was in ultimate control, not the computer.

"You sounded more like a laxative commercial," Al remarked. The A.I. was making an observation, not a joke. But what other computer on the planet would possibly make that observation?

Sousuke had to clamp his mouth shut. But, all reactions were soon forgotten. He felt a stronger swaying motion. And, something else felt amiss.

"Upward movement has ceased," the A.I. reported. "I would suspect that whatever mechanism was winding in the cable has ceased operation. Perhaps because a signal from the other Arm Slave has now ceased.

Sousuke bit back a vile oath. He had been worried enough about holding on. Now, he would be forced to do a hand-over-hand climb of the cable, with each grip and release movement being fraught with potential peril.

He began the dangerous ascent.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**SOARING ABOVE THE NANPO ISLANDS**

M9 Arm Slaves… and the ARX-7… had hands that could perform many human-like tasks.

They were _not_ designed, however, to easily grip a relatively small diameter length of slick cold metal. Each movement. Each grip. Each release. Everything had to be done properly and completely. Even then there was a sizeable chance of slippage, if not outright grip failure.

Arbalest climbed higher.

"Just like Jack and the beanstalk," Sousuke said. No, that little shit had it easier than he did, even though his journey would be far shorter than forty miles. Jack had something to climb up on securely, like a big leafy ladder.

"Are you speaking of the story that began as 'The Story of Jack Spriggins and the Enchanted Bean' in 1734," Al asked. "And later as Benjamin Tabart's moralized 'The History of Jack and the Bean-Stalk' in 1807?"

The A.S. continued its climbing action.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said. "Although I suspect the original story started long before t_hat_, and has appeared in many works afterwards." He tried to remember some exact phrasing. "I almost expect to hear a deep voice say:

_Fee-fi-fo-fum!  
I smell the blood of an A.S. man:  
Be he alive, or be he dead,  
I'll grind his bones to make my bread."_

"Gogmagog likely does not exist," the A.I. replied. That was the name of the giant in the Jack Spriggans version. "Neither should Blunderbore." That was another of the rare names given the giant, in this case from the 18th-century tale 'Jack the Giant Killer.' After a slight pause, it added: "There is no evidence that any anthropomorphic giants exist."

The ARX-7 slipped down a half of a length, but stuck tight after that.

"I guess you haven't looked in a mirror, lately." Sousuke said. He pictured for a moment, he and Arbalest showing up in a sequel to 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.'

"I am big," Al admitted. "But I have no treasure. I have no bags of gold. No goose that lays golden eggs. And no magic harp that plays by itself."

"True," Sousuke said. "But… when it works… you have something far better." A moment later, after pulling the ARX-7 up another length, he said: "The Lambda Driver." How he wished that the temperamental thing would right itself. Sure, if he fell, it couldn't form a parachute or a giant pogo stick, but it might well prove useful when he reached his destination.

With growing confidence, Sousuke increased the speed of the climb bit by bit.

"I-" Sousuke felt the A.S. shudder. The cable swung strongly to one side, buffeted by unseen forces soon thereafter. The reason was quite clear. Two F-15Js in Japanese markings flew past quickly, banking to avoid the cable. "This is really bad-"

"I can increase grip strength more," Al said. "But the action may rebound later, with muscle fiber fatigue. Should I proceed?"

"**Yes!"** Sousuke felt as if the shock wave was going to pull him loose. _"Do it!"_

The com-set sounded, and a message came through. The message originated at a computer within Captain Testarossa's cabin.

"Sousuke," it was Tessa's voice. "I've stepped away from the bridge briefly, to fill in Clouseau and the others on our status. We have been seeing the feed from Arbalest. There is something I need to say-" She seemed reticent. Her voice got quiet. "If-"

Sousuke thought about disconnecting the feed, but didn't want to spare even the slightest bit of attention.

"She just wants to say that she loves you," Melissa said, wryly. "She might not have another chance." In the background, Kurz's voice could be heard grumping 'That's' what I wanted to say.'

"Hey! Sousuke!" Kurz spoke out loud this time. "Do you know that swinging like that, you probably look just like soap on a rope!"

***WAM*** _***BAM***_

"I apologize, Captain." That was Clouseau. He had planted Mao's and Weber's faces hard into Tessa's desk. He was one of the few men with the courage to do that to the Sergeant Major. "Please continue."

"I'm going to have to close the channel," Sousuke said between clenched teeth, trying to climb again, while the cable still swayed precariously. "I need my full focus here."

"**Wait! Sergeant!"** Tessa raised her voice. "If you fall over water, the impact will still kill you, if the distance is great. If that happens…" She sucked in her breath and let it out in a rush. "...You need to set the A.S. to self-destruct before you hit. There are nations with deep water salvage capabilities." By that she meant the U.S. primarily. "Amalgam may be able to retrieve important data, if they can access Arbalest with a Plan-0601 Leviathan." That type of sleek Arm Slave was about the size of a fighter jet and could move much quicker than Da Danaan while submerged.

"Understood," Sousuke said. He then killed the line. He continued the ascent, with painstaking precision and perseverance. "Al," he called out. "Our position?" When he was given the grid coordinates, he sighed. "Good. As long as we are not heading towards an inhabited area, we have more options. If we cannot assume control of the craft above us, then we will have to bring it down." That would be best done over open waters for all of the obvious reasons. "If there is an A.I., perhaps you can override it." If there was some way to make connections.

A strange distortion was visible now. It almost looked like there was an enormous mirror layer, where the sky reflected back upon itself.

"That would be ECS," Sousuke observed. "We're getting close." It was odd. It looked like the end of the cable was just sitting there out in the middle of nowhere. "There must be other tricks, if Mithril cannot track it." Black Technology at work again, no doubt.

"Sergeant, is your focus good enough now for a question?" Al asked.

"A quick one," Sousuke answered. He had thought about saying 'no.' Sometimes preventive medicine is better than a remedy after the fact.

"Would you sacrifice yourself to save me?" The A.I.'s question must have been prompted by Tessa's order.

"Negative," Sousuke answered easily.

"But you would expect me to sacrifice myself for you?" Al asked.

"_Definitely,"_ Sousuke replied. He had managed to pilot Arbalest up the rope far enough to begin to make something out. He could see large structures to either side that looked like those things on the front of a manta ray. Their inner surface had large machines that could be part crane and part conveyer belt. No doubt they were designed for capture and release of an Arm Slave. Centered between them, held by foldable extensions, was a relatively small clamping device that clamped the balloon cable, just below the level of the fluttering and flopping balloon.

"I see," Al said. That and nothing more.

"Are you thinking 'But that's not fair', or something like that?" Sousuke queried. "We will not be distracted by philosophy. Here is the one fact you need to consider. You can be repaired and given a new body. I can_not." _He quickly added. "I am not talking about mind transfer." He certainly hoped he could be given another body… his own!

"Understood," Al replied.

"We are at the top now," Sousuke noted. "Those devices have not moved. They do not recognize us as 'self,' I suppose." That fact concerned him. What if the craft decided to let the clasp unlock, and drop him and the ARX-7 to their doom? "It does us no good to stay here. We cannot reach out and grab anything. Search all targets within reach, and determine the best latch point for the wire gun cable."

This would be safer than trying to move along the thin arms supporting the clasping device.

"Searching," Al replied. "The front of the craft is smooth and therefore nonviable."

Sousuke used the cameras to look over the front of the aircraft. It curved slightly from side to side, and more so from top to bottom. There were faint lines, suggesting that the forward section could open clamshell style, almost like a giant mouth. He swallowed hard, and shook off his superstitious feeling.

"There are three points of interest on each flanking structure," Al noted, displaying the prongs on a diagram, Red 'x's marked exposed bars and cylinders that had relatively narrow girth. "These are closest to the craft." Two of the 'x's were now flashing green. "I propose we fire on the one on the left. The angle is best for our remaining wire gun."

"I agree," Sousuke said. "Support my aiming." He sighted, and then fired. The cable tip struck the desired target.

"Testing." All directed Arbalest's body to tug slightly on the cable. "Secure."

"**Here we go!"** Sousuke thought about the 'Eiger Sanction'. That movie was a 1975 American thriller film directed by and starring Clint Eastwood. The story was about an art history professor, mountain climber and former assassin once employed by a secret United States government agency, who is blackmailed into returning to his deadly profession and do one more 'sanction', a euphemism for killing. He agrees to join an international climbing team in Switzerland planning an ascent of the Eiger's north face in order to complete the sanction to avenge the murder of an old friend.

The climbing scenes in the move were still unrivaled.

Arbalest was directly below one prong, suspended by the cable. Sousuke ordered Al to retract the wire gun's cable. The A.I. did so. Ascent was slow, but steady. After that, it was a matter of pulling the ARX-7 up, and then navigating its way across a landscape of gigantic machine parts until they reached the front of the aircraft. He did that. Traversing those obstacles had been tricky enough. Now, he faced another crux point.

"We need to try this," Sousuke told the computer. He needed to wrap the wire gun cable around the anti-armor dagger. That accomplished, he chipped at the strong metal of the aircraft until he put the knife in like a piton. Instead of suspending himself from that piton, he jumped upward, landing on the knife. It jerked, and nearly slid out. It held. Barely. "Now… I need to find purchase…."

Near the front of the craft… one to either side… were huge dome-like structures, with interlocking hexagons forming the surface. They looked for all the world like giant insect eyes. He felt like a small beetle staring up at a praying mantis. He surmised that the domes were coverings for enormous active electronically scanned arrays at the very least, and quite likely something much further advanced. Finding a strong handhold, he jerked on the cable repeatedly, until he could reel the dagger back in.

The craft was visible only for a small radius around whatever place he touched it. The metal surface surrounding the radar dome was smooth and metallic. Intricate grooves like the narrowest Incan diagrams had been cut into that surface, and were filled with a semi-solid polymer. Viewed at a sharp angle, the surface seemed covered by a faintly visible haze, possibly a charged ion barrier.

All of that added up to advanced stealth technology.

"Mithril won't be able to see this," Sousuke mused. "There will be no way to pinpoint it and no way to acquire target reliable missile lock." Unless he could somehow break stealth, the only way to take down the craft would be damage to outside structures necessary for flight, or destruction of key inside components.

The young pilot ran Arbalest's hand over the surface. It was very slick. There was little friction. That finding was problematic. He had only one choice. Crawling or any attempt at walking would likely lead to the ARX-7 sliding off of the craft. He would have to move slowly along, using the dagger to gain some purchase, while keeping all other movements to a minimum. The process was tedious, but he was good at tedious tasks.

Slowly they crept along.

Sousuke began sweating heavily after a while. The task was taking some toll on him, even as seasoned and somber as he was. Part of that was a sense of dread, a burning tingle of anticipation in the root of his stomach. He kept searching the parts of the craft that he could see, hoping that he would not gain a glimpse of any kind of CIWS system or something akin to a rolling airframe missile launcher. A CIWS like the iconic American Phalanx… the Dutch Goalkeeper, using the same gun as the A10 attack jet… or the Russian Kashtan with dual 50mm rotary cannons and 9M311 missiles… would spell quick and certain doom for him and his Arm Slave. Same for anything like the small anti-missile and anti-aircraft laser turrets that were on the drawing board for fighter jets.

"Those would defeat stealth," he said, letting out a sigh of relief, only to feel the stress return when he admitted that they could be housed in pods that moved up only when necessary. "Why?" Something odd occurred, and he couldn't explain why. Possibly due to the overall shape of the craft, the ECS field was now situated a few meters above his head. He could now see, from that vantage point at least, the entirely of the vehicle, at least the uppermost areas. "It's almost like being in the 'Avengers' movie." If anything, the craft they were crawling on was larger than the Helicarriers in those movies. "Or 'Land of the Giants'." He was probably one of the few people on earth who still remembered that 1960s sci-fi TV series. Clouseau had clued him into that one.

He looked for structures that he could damage, like flaps and the like. There were none. How could they fly the aircraft, then? Subtle surface structures gave sufficient clues. Subtle was a relative term, since the features were large compared to Arbalest, and getting too close to one would provide another way to be blown off of their perch.

The aircraft had no tail or tails. It must use a blown air system. Sousuke had read about those; but, his reference material dealt with small UAVs, not anything the size of this beast. Air from the hidden engines was likely blown over the trailing edges of the wings to provide control. Also, the presence of symmetrically places vents suggested fluidic thrust vectoring, or the use of blown air to deflect the trailing exhaust, aiding in the craft's change in direction.

"If we still had Lambda Driver function, I might be able to disrupt those." Sousuke said aloud.

"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride," Al said, quoting an old Scottish nursery rhyme. "If turnips were swords I'd have one by my side." He didn't complete the saying by adding 'If 'ifs' and 'ands' were pots and pans… there would be no need for tinker's hands!'

"If there is too much useless noise-" Sousuke snarled. "Someone might end up in a garbage truck instead of a Trans Am." He added: "as the A.I., or in the compacting compartment."

After slowly crawling across the surface for a few minutes more, Sousuke fell upon the best of good fortunes. The front viewscreen, on high magnification, identified a very slight line that he could trace into an immense rectangular shape. Was it some kind of door? Could he pry it open? Or free it up with the monomolecular cutter? He tried the latter, but the vibrations threatened to shake him free of his anchoring dagger, and the teeth made little headway into the perceived gap. He would need to use his 'piton' as a tool. That was the highest risk option of all, since it took away his anchor. But, he had no horse, so to speak.

So, he would have to do what was necessary.

For some unknown reason, the result came quickly, with little effort. The large panel lifted straight up, supported by large metal poles. Those poles were embedded in a polymer platform base, one that held a pair of aircraft… or, given the appearance of the darkened canopies… drones. He recognized the lines. The design was based on the Russian Mig 41.

"Well-" For a moment, Sousuke looked at the aircraft as a possible way off of the giant craft. But, that was neither here nor there. He had a job to do. And, if the structure was an elevator, and he could ride it inside, he would need to push the drones off. As soon as he directed Arbalest to do that, the aircraft slowly slid along the surface, and began heading for the distant edges of the mother ship. No sooner had the last plane's weight left the elevator, it began to lower. **"Go!"** He sprawled forward, scooting the ARX-7 onto the lift. There was room to kneel, but not to stand.

When the elevator was situated inside the craft again, Sousuke looked around in awe. He was in the belly of the beast, feeling like a modern-day Jonah. He scooted Arbalest off of the platform, and then turned it about, to scope out the cavernous interior.

Sosuiue felt like a kid in a candy store.

Nearest to him, as he swiveled the A.S., was a lengthy wall full of various weaponry, from piutols and SMGs, to rifles, anti-material guns, and ATGMs. If only he could stuff the lot of them in his pockets, along with those grenades, mines, and small automatic gun turrets! He really could use Felix the Cat's bag, now! There was all manner of body armor, too, along with camouflage gear and night vision equipment.

He settled for a MP-443 Grach 9x19mm pistol and AK-15 7.62x39mm assault rifle. He put a GM-94 multi-shot grenade launcher back, deciding that it might not be wise to use it in a confined space, no matter how voluminous that space might be.

He was definitely _not _going to touch the Shmel!

"Open front cover," Sousuke said. He needed to scout the place on foot. He jokingly looked around for a tour guide. Naturally finding none, he checked the ceiling to se if there were locator panels, like at an airport or a supermarket. There were none. But, there were color-coded strips at the edge of various pillars and floor panels. The area that he and Arbalest inhabited was red, and seemed to include offensive weaponry, given the presence of two crouched Venoms, six type 89 Armored Personnel Carriers, and four Russian Sprut-SDM1 125 mm light-tanks. Seeing a yellow area further towards the front of the aircraft, he headed in that direction.

"Troop area," he figured. There were a number of identical set-ups spread about that section. Each one had numerous seats with clamshell type seat restraints. There were enough to seat a couple of platoons, at least. There were also stacks of tightly packed bunks, a large lavatory, and a small kitchen area, replete with walk-in refrigerators, large wash sinks, and lengthy fold-up aluminum tables. There was even a reclining chair next to a barber's pole! He found clothes lockers, too. Seeing small doors leading out from the aircraft, he wondered if there were parachutes nearby. He searched, finding none,

"Those-" Sousuke said to himself. Strapped to a number of work benches, he saw partly completed Groupies. Not far from them, there was a row of large transparent spherical enclosures, likely drop pods. Each had a giant eyelet on top, no doubt the attachment point for parachutes. He found those chutes, but they too were only partly assembled. No help getting safely to the ground, there. Not for him, nor for the ARX-7. "Maybe-" He had found a number of modernized jet-packs. But, they were not fueled.

Next he moved from the yellow area into the green. The area ended in a narrow wall, with a door. Likely the aircraft's bridge. The large area outside of that door was filled with lengthy banks of computers, electronic defense equipment, and other advanced electronics. All were key-coded, requiring passwords.

Nothing of value there.

There were no secret plan books accidentally left out by some errant crew member, a trope seen in plenty of movies, television shows, manga, and anime.

"Knock knock!" Sousuke said quietly, trying a button on a wall panel. The thick metal barrier slid open. He rushed into the room, ready to fire. The cockpit did not have windows. Rather it had huge viewscreens, showing the outside world. Various small cut-out screens were not currently lit up. There were no inhabitants. The control panel was covered, and a number of chairs were folded to the floor. The craft was either controlled by a preprogrammed A.I., a remote operator, or both in tandem or in sequence. **"Shit!"**

He saw curving stairways going down, flanking the large console. Gun up, he silently descended, finding a large separate semicircular cargo bay area. This must be where the orange A.S. had been stored. The ammunition racks corresponded to the Gatling gun and to other various hand-held weapons that the decedent had chosen to leave behind, in favor of his high technology toys.

In any case, there were no people down there either.

If there was a human involved, he or she would have noticed his presence, if internal cameras were on, or if there was a security system that signaled the unlikely event of an intrusion. Would there be an automated hunter-killer sent after him? An odorless invisible gas? A skeleton crew, wakened from their secure safe rooms? Perhaps oxygen supplies might be shut off, or the percent O2 increased to a level that would leave him unconscious.

"If there is only an A.I., what contingency plans might there be?" Sousuke wondered if the craft might turn around and perform some type of retaliatory strike, either again Mithril targets, or other targets that offered Amalgam potential problems in the future. "Did Mr. Magnesium send instructions before he died? Before he sent the balloon aloft? Or before he had even launched form the front prong area?"

Questions.

There were so many questions.

But, there was one answer. He needed to bring this bitch down. As soon as possible. By any available means. He trotted back to the red area, to do more exploring.

At one point, he ducked behind a large pillar, and jumped out the other side, rifle up. His finger tightened on the trigger. He almost fired. The humanoid forms he saw, dressed like soldiers, were fighting dummies at the edge of a large gym-type mat. It was a training and exercise area, one for use with weapons. There were large bulletproof panels that could be rolled into place to cordon off fire zones.

Dabbing at his forehead with one sleeve end, he moved towards the serious stuff. The Venoms had key-pad security consoles that he could not crack in a lifetime of attempts. There was a PHL03 – 300 mm rocket artillery piece, a Chinese copy of the Russian BM-30 Smerch, with twelve 300mm rockets. That would have done a lot of havoc, if he could have remotely triggered it before jumping ship. But, there was another fucking key-pad.

"**Hah!"** There were a number of towed artillery pieces. A sextet of 2A18 D-30 122mm howitzers. A pair of 2A29 MT-12 Rapira 100mm anti-tank guns. Four M56s, the Yugoslavian version of the American 105 mm M101A1 howitzer. "I just need to find the ammunition." He noted that each piece of equipment throughout that vast cargo area sat on an air-dropable pallet. That made sense. A craft this size could not land on any runway that he knew of. And, the overall shape of the craft did not lend itself to a low-altitude parachute-extraction system,,, LAPES… a tactical military airlift delivery method where a fixed-wing cargo aircraft can deposit supplies in situations in which landing is not an option, in an area that is too small to accurately parachute supplies from a high altitude. There were a great number of empty pallets. What was this aircraft for, when it was fully loaded? What might Amalgam have up its sleeve?

Unfortunately, none of the pallets were prepped for drop. There were no attached parachutes.

He walked between a pair of Mig 41 drones, looking down at the floor. Based on the markings, it looked like there had been at least twelve other drones housed in the area. Small amounts of fuel were still pooled in some of the marked areas, suggesting that a number of the drones had been launched recently, probably by means of the elevator he rode down.

If there were drones, then there would have to be munitions for them. Same for the quartet of Mil Mi-28s, Russian all-weather anti-armor attack helicopters, NATO reporting name 'Havoc.'

He did find a cargo manifesto taped to one pillar. The loading had been done in small increments. The final load was mind-boggling. About the only thing missing from the load list was a Behemoth!

Sousuke eyeballed the vast area surrounding the remaining aircraft and around the armored vehicles and artillery pieces. There were a number of large rectangular containers, four times the length and width of the trailers of eighteen wheelers, fronted by a large metal door with a crank release wheel. If he was a betting man, he would wager that those were weapons storage bins. When he reached one, spun the wheel, and pulled open the heavy door, he smiled. He looked over at Arbalest and felt silly, after giving Al a thumbs up. He was relatively close to the A.S., which meant that he could jump back onboard and attempt to survive any damage he could do, hopefully bringing the craft down to a safe jumping height.

Maybe he could save himself and the ARX-7, too.

There were neither dollies nor lifts inside the container, nor even a simple pulley set. There was no way for him to gather up and move the ammunition for the various cannons. So close, and yet so far! He would have to cause some kind of explosion in this container. Perhaps he could rig up an IED. If he could set off a chain reaction, he might be able to create a structural breach, and perhaps a smoke trail for some outside combatants to trace. He folded down a number of brackets that held the heavy munitions in place. He then began making certain that every round he could reach was made live.

Next, he unscrewed the tips of a couple of shells. Then he ran out to scrounge lengths of wire, ready-made timing devices, and batteries..

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**SOMEWHERE IN SWITZERLAND**

At a marvelous antique desk, a scion of its type, carved throughout the lifetime of a long dead craftsman, two computer screens flashed on and off.

One displayed a message sent from an outside human source, written in clandestine code with an added set of numbers. The other depicted a large symbol, which when clicked on would give access to a mechanical message.

A fresh china cup and pot of tea on a burner sat near a keyboard. An empty plate rested near a cloth covered basket of fresh scones and exquisite jars of jams and jellies. An unopened bottle of wine chilled in a bucket, now half filled with water and ice, after having started out with ice alone.

The technician had yet to return from Clinique La Prairie. The staff was prepared for anything, even though they didn't expect to see him for a goodly while.

Had he been there, and had he clicked on the screen with the symbol… which showed a backwards progression of numbers… he would have realized that the Chazaqiel had switched over to autonomous action, and would follow whatever protocols Mr. Magnesium had installed, including those to be implemented in the event that Lucas II and its pilot were destroyed, and should no separate command from Mr. Magnesium abort the previous order

If instead, the technician had been there to open the coded message, which had been sent by the Whispered A.S. pilot at some point prior to his demise, he would have been directed by that provided code to a message secreted away on a server he had no previous access to. That message would have chilled him to the bone, forcing him to choose between the lesser of two enormous Evils.

Choice one: he could use a supplied password to reprogram the humongous RPV, and turn on the Apocalypse routine, which had to be done real-time by a human, and not by some kind of bot. That would have the RPV set its nuclear engines to critical overload, making each a low-yield nuclear bomb-equivalent after about twenty minutes of uninterrupted energetic reactions.. Before the craft would purposefully crash into the downtown of the nearest nation's Capitol city, it would rain ruin on any city it flew over on its suicide mission. He would have a set amount of time to complete that task.

Choice two: do nothing. When the countdown ended, the A.I. that was currently directing the RPV would fly it to designated targets, and Chazaqiel would drop its bomb load on the estates and factories belonging to Mr. Magnesium's family. Following that, agents would inform the Swiss government of the technician's illegal activities, and assassins would murder his wife and children.

The counter on the icon screen was below one minute, now.

60… 59… 58… 57… 56… 55…54… 53… 52… 51… 50…

As fortune would have it, the technician walked into the office, looking for the identification he needed to be admitted to the spa. He had absentmindedly forgotten it. Picking it up off of a small curio, he almost walked back out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something flashing.

42… 41… 40… 39… 38… 37… 36… 35… 34… 33… 32…

He opened Magnesium's message first. He turned pale, as the blood left his face. He began trembling all over. He had no idea how Colonel Paul W. Tibbets and Major Thomas Ferebee might have felt, or Major Charles W. Sweeney and Captain Kermit Beahan might have felt, but _they_ had been soldiers. The former two had been pilot and bombadier aboard Enola Gay, the B-29 Superfortress that had bombed Hiroshima. The latter two had served similar roles aboard Bockscar, which had bombed Nagasaki. He tried to pour a cup of tea, but spilled tea everywhere but inside the cup.

25… 24… 23… 22… 21… 20… 19… 18… 17… 16… 15…

He pictured his wife's face. He had flashbacks to the birth of each of his beloved daughters. He didn't know for sure if his loved ones would be safe if he chose to facilitate an atomic holocaust. The ethical pressure he felt left him breathless.

This was all as bad as the ending of the Henry Fonda film, 'Fail Safe'.

In that movie, the U.S. Air Force's early warning radar indicated that an unidentified aircraft had intruded into American airspace. Shortly after, the 'intruder' was identified as an off-course civilian airliner and the alert was cancelled; but, a computer error caused one American bomber group to receive orders for an attack on Moscow. Attempts to rescind that order failed because a new Soviet countermeasure jammed American radio communications. With his orders apparently confirmed, Colonel Jack Grady, the US bomber group's commander, ordered them to continue to their target. The President of the United States and his advisers attempted to recall the bombers or shoot them down. Communications were opened with the Soviet chairman in which mistakes on both sides were acknowledged. The jamming ceased, but the crew followed their training, dismissing the counter-orders they receive as a Soviet ruse. The President struggled to find a resolution that would stop the Soviet Union from counter-attacking; if he failed, a nuclear holocaust would be unavoidable. He offers to sacrifice an American target to appease the Soviets and he ordered an American bomber towards New York City.

The President's advisers in the Pentagon discovered that in doing so, the President would be sacrificing the First Lady, who is visiting New York City. A single American bomber reached Moscow and destroyed it. The President then ordered General Black, whose wife and children live in New York, to make a corresponding nuclear attack on New York, using the Empire State Building as ground zero. After releasing the bombs, Black killed himself. The last moments of the film show images of people in New York going about their daily lives, unaware of the coming disaster.

"What to do? What to do." The technician placed his face in his hands. Those men in the movie were so heroic, faced with such devastating choices. "I'm no hero," he said, sighing.

10… 9… 8… 7…

"God forgive me." The technician typed in a long string of numbers given to him in the email. His finger hovered over the send button.

4…3…

The man pushed the button. He may have condemned millions to death, great loss, or future disease, to possibly save the ones that he loved.

He gave consideration to the handgun he kept in the locked top desk drawer.

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**FLYING OVER THE FEDERATED STATES OF MICRONESIA**

Receiving the message, the Chazaqiel swung into a sharp turn and greatly picked up speed.

"What the Hell!" Sousuke was thrown hard against one munitions rack. _That hurt!_ But, that was by far the least of his problems.

No longer constrained in their cradles, the munitions that he had free-up rocked back and forth, and then came rolling up and out of their resting sites. They bounced this way and that, some rolling along the floor, and others ricocheting in every which direction. Lucky for Sousuke, none exploded.

"I-" Sousuke did his best impression of the characters in the 'Dodgeball' flick. He was struck hard by one howitzer shell, and barely missed being brained and knee-capped by two others. The ones on the floor, were hampering his mobility, and more shells were rocking higher up. _"Phewww-ww-w_…." he let out a long sigh, when the aircraft leveled out. "That was a close one."

He froze.

One of the rounds had a delayed fuse. The sound that the nosepiece was making meant that the live round was on a countdown to detonation.

"Pal!" Sousuke called out. "Aim the wire gun at my position. Fire when ready!" Claxons sounded. Yellow rotating lights had been activated. A mechanical voice came over the speaker:

"Warning, decompressive event pending." That message repeated, as huge clamps holding the munitions compartment released, as the entire enclosure prepared to drop out from the RPV. Somehow the A.I. had sensed the danger, and was going to send the explosion outside.

Sousuke leaned to one side when the cable fired into the compartment, grapping hold of it after impact. **"Retrieve it now!"** As he was being pulled towards the ARX-7, the container dropped. He barely missed having both legs cut off at the ankles as he passed through the opened door in the nick of time.

Two huge bay doors on either flank of the aircraft opened as part of the emergency protocol, preventing a pressure fluctuation that might damage the aircraft and other equipment. Sousuke was temporarily pulled towards one opening until the wire gun cable was snug and secure. For a moment, the young soldier had caught sight of a gigantic recessed engine. Its size was nearly unimaginable.

"Sergeant, I have plotted our new course." Al reported. "We are headed back towards Tokyo."

Sousuke jumped back inside of Arbalest, and had it crawling across the red-rimmed floor area. He had a crazy idea. Pushing smaller equipment out of the way, he maneuvered behind one Mig 41 drone and pushed it towards one of the bay doors, both of which were still open. "Push the drone out towards the engine inlet." He and his machine did just that. The falling jet careened into the rotating blades and was shredded into small fragments, without causing any noticeable damage to the engine. "Dammit!"

Next!

He dismounted again, careful not to be sucked outside of the craft. He ran and checked other containers, to see if there was anything useful inside, and to see if the internal arrangement might allow Arbalest to reach a hand inside and grab hold of the contents. One structure held S-25 Russian air-to-ground rockets; Vympel R-73 short-range air-to-air missile; Kh-59 Ovod TV-guided ant-ship cruise missiles; and Vympel NPO R-77 medium range missiles. Those probably wouldn't get the job done. He hit pay dirt in the next enclosure. Not only were there FAB-500 low-drag, general purpose, air-dropped bombs with a 500-kilogram high-explosive warheads and ZAB-500 incendiary bombs, but there was also an extremely long preloaded bomb train attached to a sturdy looking mag-lev tractor.

"Bingo!" Sousuke jumped on the tractor and smiled seeing the key in the ignition. He fired the vehicle it up, and watched an eerie green light shine forth from beneath the tractor and from under its weighty cargo-laden trailer. He jumped off and took a few minutes to arm every bomb that he could reach. Hopping back on, he pushed a control lever to 'F,' and began moving his vehicle towards the area in front of his Arm Slave. It was at that very moment, his floppy ears flapping like narrow flags in the wind, that he realized he was still clad in the bunny costume! How had he ignored that until now! "That's okay" he said, incredibly embarrassed, swearing that he would never tell this story to anyone. "The Easter Bunny has some nice eggs for all of the good Amalgam boys and girls."

"I will not repeat my assertion that this will be more like an Easter egg fight than an Easter egg hunt," Al stated, when told of his pilot's intentions.

"Thank you for that," Sousuke drawled. "Let's give it a go!" back in the pilot seat, he used Arbalest's hand to overturn the egg cart, so to speak. Bombs rolled this way and that across the floor, which thankfully was fairly level now. He began grabbing bombs and tossing them out the opening. "Here's some eggs for you." He could reach the nearest engine. He could only partly see the next staggered one. The third and fourth engines on that side were not visible from that vantage point. That was fine. He wouldn't be able to bring the craft down. "Here's some eggs for you and you and you." But, by damaging that nearest engine, he could leave a trail of flaming Easter treats for the happy children aboard the TDD-1.

Many of the bombs burst against the cowling, or at the casing just outside of the rotor. Others were spun around like balls in a roulette wheel, before being thrown out unexploded, or staying flat, held down by centrifugal force. But, there were some detonations on target.

***boom***

That explosion was hard to hear over the howling wind. But the flash of orange was easy to see.

***boom* *boom* *boom***

The aircraft didn't shudder one iota. Its mass was far too great. But, the bombs were doing some work. Pieces of the great metal vanes were spinning around with unexploded bombs now.

It was a start.

"Da Danaan, this is Sagara. Come in." He needed to let Tessa and Commander Mardukas know what was going on. They could notify any other necessary Mithril sea-craft or airborne asset as necessary, or even make political calls to American personnel in the know. "Da Danaan, this is Sergenat Sousuke Sagara, please come in."

***boom* *boom* *boom***

"Da Danaan here," a com-operator said. Immediately thereafter, the headset was passed to Tessa. She listened to Sousuke's abbreviated report, frightened by her intuition. That RPV must be brought down as quickly as possible, at whatever price necessary. Price in munitions… in equipment… and in personnel.

"I hope to leave a trail of bread crumbs for one of your birds to follow, Captain." Sousuke said. "If I fail in my attempts, I suggest that you use Arbalest's locator beacon as a target signal."

***boom***

"That's already being done, Sergeant" Mardukas said matter of factly. "But, the target lock will be poor and the delivery imprecise. I trust you be successful in your endeavor. Our current cruise missile load has optical ports in the nose cones that allow human steering from launch consoles. Give us that trail." He paused. It was bad luck, but he felt it proper just the same. "You will be in all of our prayers, either way."

He did not expect the younger man to return.

"We will launch every missile that we have," Tessa told Sousuke. "There is at least one American submarine in the area that will follow suit if we can reach them, unbeknownst to their admiralty." Most U.S. subs were their hunters, not their allies. "Mithril container ships will replenish them before they return to their home port. Sousuke… I want…."

***boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom***

"It's okay… Tessa." Sousuke didn't care if Mardukas was listening. "This comes with the territory.' After pausing, he asked her to deliver a message to Kaname. He then signed off, without further communication.

Al reported that cruise missiles were now being launched as quickly as possible from the TDD-1. He gave an estimated time of arrival for the first grouping. On one view screen, he showed the RPV's current location as it related to the submarine and the Japanese shoreline. "Sergeant, F-35s have been directed thisway." Those were a hopeful measure actually, since their ordinance could do next to no damage to the Beast. If by miracle he made it ashore, one jet could take him back to the hospital, whose helideck had been built to withstand the heat output of a VTOL aircraft. "A transport helicopter, as well." That was an even bigger long-shot. It would be for retrieval of Arbalest, if it still survived.

"Right," Sousuke remarked. "Better to cover for every possible contingency."

He continued tossing bombs until that load was almost done. If he ran out, he would need to explore more containers, if there was time.

***boom* *boom* *boom* *b-l-a-m* **

w-o-n-k s-c-h-u-p s-c-h-u-p s-c-h-u-p

_gronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglgronglwhamwhamwham_

"Give me visuals, pal!" Sousuke moved the A.S. forward some to gain a better view. **"Yes!"** The engine was on fire now, its innards blazing away like an inferno. "We'll toss everything we have!" He kept throwing the remaining bombs, and even threw in the tractor to boot.

Claxons sounded again. Even more lights spun than before. The same voice was heard over the speakers:

"Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now. "Engines will go supercritical in five minutes. Evacuate the craft now." The message kept repeating.

"What does that mean, Al?" Sousuke asked.

"I don't know, Sergeant." The A.I. replied.

"That-" Sousuke saw a symbol flashing on a number of craft's wall panels, and on huge flat-screen monitors spread throughout the aircraft interior. It was an easily recognizable Hazard symbol. It was a trefoil with a central circle of radius R, an internal radius of 1.5R and an external radius of 5R for the blades, which were separated from each other by 60 degrees. "-That's the symbol for Ionizing Radiation."

"I suspect that the engines are nuclear powered," the A.I. stated. "Using radioactive fuel."

With engines like that, and a huge fuel reserve, the craft could circle the globe numerous times before it needed to be refueled or retired, or even to land, for that matter.

"Then did we-" Sousuke felt as if someone dropped a bucket of ice water on his head and back. Had he caused this situation, by setting the engine on fire? Was the engine about to cause a nuclear explosion, because of his meddling? That would make his early indiscretions that day look like a kiss on the cheek. No, kisses on 9.273 million cheeks.

That was the population of Tokyo.

Hopefully the missiles would strike… the craft would fall into the sea… and the ocean would diffuse the explosion, or halt it altogether. Did it matter, his trying to think up some way to survive, if everything with eyesight would be awash in nuclear fire?

"I expect the missiles to arrive with one or two minutes to spare," the A.I. reported. "Hits to the engines on an aircraft this size… or sufficient disruption to its unique airflow… should bring it down."

"We are changing altitude," Sousuke noticed. They had passed through the cloud layer. He could see approaching land outside of the bay door now. "Either to provide more clutter for missile optics," he guessed. "Or, to cause explosion upon its impact." Thirty seconds later, they were not that far above the ocean. **"Move!"** He wished the ARX-7 could run; but, the best it could do was crawl.

They might make the opening before Tomahawk impact!

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**APPROACHING KANEGAWA PREFECTURE**

Chazaqiel flew swiftly, following the contour of the earth.

Sousuke remembered something. He would have to do it. He knew precisely how to proceed.

"Al, set self-destruct timer at ten minutes," Sousuke said. "Start, now!" Hopefully this precaution would prove unneccesary.

"Starting," Al said without commentary. The countdown showed on the cockpit HUD.

"Do not cease countdown without my order," Sousuke added. He would do just that, should their outcome warrant cancellation. Hopefully impact would not knock him unconscious, or damage the A.I. in some way that prevented shutdown. "Here we go!" He was about to step the A.S. off of the craft. His angle of descent should keep him from falling anywhere near the burning maw of the ruined engine.

**B-O-O-O-O-M**

Arbalest was forced to slide backwards. While the explosion of a single cruise missile was not enough to severely damage Chazaqiel, its placement had been enough to cause it to tilt slightly. Sousuke, retraced his steps, ready to try again. They were very close to the mainland, now. Not only might they survive the fall, they may end up in shallow water. _If _they could jump soon. If not, they would be over land.

**B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M**

"I am overjoyed that there is mission success," Sousuke said. "But couldn't it have waited a few seconds more?!"

There was indeed some level of success. Three successive strikes had severely warped the airflow dynamics, causing the craft to enter into a steep bank away from the shore. That left Arbalest hanging on to the base of the bay door opening, to keep from sliding down into the beast's belly.

Sousuke needed to pull the ARX-7 up and climb out.

"Hand strength failing," Al reported. That was the cost of their earlier wire climbing, and the labor-intensive movement across the aircraft's surface. "We are incapable of exiting this way."

**B-O-O-O-O-M** _Long pause _ **B-O-O-O-O-M **_Short pause _ **B-O-O-O-O-M**

Sousukje didn't have time to consider that the number of strikes in the time period suggested more than one attacking submarine, airborne launch carrier, or land attack unit was involved. The craft was now tilted forty-five degrees or more.

***boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom* *boom***

Explosions were taking place in the huge interior; not because of the Tomahawks, but because of the remaining live bombs that Arbalest had left alone after they rolled out of reach earlier.

"I can use this situation to our benefit," Sousuke called out, letting Arbalest's grip go. _Gravity! _Gravity would save the day. He could slide down inside the beast, leaving its mouth behind, and shoot out of its opposite orifice. The other bay door was still open. "We have this!"

**B-O-O-O-O-M** _Short pause _**B-O-O-O-O-M**

Arbalest's sliding motion was thrown off course. It struck the wall away from the opening. A couple of unexploded bombs were threatening to roll their way. They started bouncing off of bulkhead pillars like pachinko balls off of pegs.

"Whatever can go wrong," Al stated. "Will go wrong." If things hadn't gotten weird enough, now the computer was quoting Murphy's law.

The mag-lev tractor and the trailer it pulled, minus the large bomb racks, lay on its side, still powered up. Sousuke scrabbled the A.S. forward, knocked the trailer flat, and rested the center of the ARX-7 on it. Like a surfer moving out towards the waves, he made swimming motions with the A.S. arms, pushing the trailer along quickly.

They shot out of the bay door.

**B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M B-O-O-O-O-M**

As they fell downward, Sousuke caught view of Chazqiel, putting off large amounts of smoke, looking like a burning bat that had escaped the depths of Hell. It was still turning away from the mainland as it attempted to level out its flight. It should hit water soon enough, hopefully before any engine went critical. He shivered, realizing once again, that they had been throwing large bombs inside of a nuclear-powered engine.

_Splaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaa-aaa-aa-ash_

"**Ooo-oo-oph!"** Sousuke was snug in his harness; but, the impact with the water still knocked the wind out of him. _"Argh!"_ Shortly after hitting the water's surface, Arbalest struck bottom. That hurt too, but it was a good hurt, if it meant they were at a depth they could walk or crawl out from, predisposing that the ARX-7 was still watertight after all it had been through that day.

Which way was shoreward? He didn't want to wander blindly into deeper water.

"Al," Sousuke called out. "Is your internal compass working? Which way to the shore?" The A.I. put the image of a compass on the front view screen HUD, and said 'North North East'. It turned its body so that the arrow pointed straight ahead. "Return full power to the legs. All ahead full!" Sousuke liked the sound of that. It was a trope of sorts from historic and futuristic war movies.

"Feet don't fail me now," Al said, as Sousuke began to to move them through the water, buffeted slightly when the ARX-7 reached surf.

*Gulp*

The young pilot noticed the numbers on the HUD. "Pal… stop the self-destruct countdown!" He had forgotten about that. The A.I. would have reminded him when things got close, _right?_

"Countdown discontinued," Al said.

Sousuke called Da Danaan. There was clear jubilation on the end of the line. The only sour note was Commander Mardukas, who admonished Tessa, saying that the Captain of a submarine was not to shed tears, especially not in front of the crew. Sniffling, Tessa told Sousuke that a transport helicopter was on the way, and that an F-35 should be putting down as close as possible to his emergence point. That all assumed that he could make it ashore. After all he had been through, it would be terribly anti-climactic if he drowned within sight of land.

"You heard our instructions, pal." Souuske told the A.I. "Choose the best place to stand on solid ground, ECS maintained. I will take a plane. You will await the helicopter."

"Understood," Al replied. "Sergeant. Birds may not be able to see us, but they still sense that I am here."

"_Really?"_ Sousuke did not like the sound of that. Birds seemingly sitting on air? An observer would think that something smelled fishy, in a matter of speaking. It was good that the A.I. realized that fact, and then reported its concerns.

"Yes," Al said. His true motivation was both humorous and unnerving. "They may defecate on me."

"-" With all that had happened to the ARX-7, including the severe damage that came from the thermobaric explosion, the A.I. was worried about some seagull shit?! Sousuke cleared his throat. "Find ways to keep the birds off without giving yourself away. Perhaps subsonic emissions. Figure it out." He opened the cockpit. He had never felt so happy before, thinking about touching earth again. Hopping down from the A.S., he felt like he had landed on a new planet or something. That had him paraphrase a famous saying:

"The Rabbit has landed!" He looked down at the sand. He had left two large rabbit foot impressions. Great. There would be people out here with cameras later on, no doubt writing stories about aliens or hibagons if they caught sight of the footprints. Hibagons are the Japanese equivalent of the North American Bigfoot and Himalayan Yeti.

"Urzu-7, come in." A voice came in over Sousuke's phone. "Urzu-7, this is Gebo-3, over."

"No." Sousuke shook his head. "Not him." Or, potentially, _them._ But, he had to reply. "This is Sagara."

"Cuitie! You're okay." Yes. It was Christopher Layton, Mithril helicopter pilot extraordinaire. "We're enroute to pick up the big boy. Beacon strength is good." He gave Sousuke an ETA. "We're flying _Hercules_… and you can consider this a labor of love." That bad joke fell flat as far as the rabbit-suited soldier was concerned. He had always enjoyed reading about the Labors of Hercules. The _Hercule_s that the pilot mentioned was the TDD-1's newest bird, a Mithril variant of the American CH-53K King Stallion.

"Speaking of labor," another voice came onto the channel. Ii figured. It was Ruslan Polovinkovich, Gebo-1. "If you stay a young lady, you will no doubt have babies. After we rescue your big metal boyfriend, you will owe us a huge debt. You should name your first child after me. Your tenth after Chris. Especially if it's a girl."

Luckily for Sousuke, that call ended, as another came in. It was from Captain Charles Bong, Mithril F-35 pilot. He was flying a 2-seat variant, and was coming in for a landing.

"Sergeant Sagara," Bong said. "How far are you from that… well… giant white bunny?"

Sousuke didn't reply. He simply began slipping out of the costume.

"**Oh!"** Bong said, with a curt laugh. "Don't leave that thing on the sand. After your actions today, it probably belongs in a Mithril museum!" More chuckles.

"Everyone's a comedian," Sousuke said under his breath, still grateful for the ride. Finally, reality began to set in. Would it be possible to be 'him' again?

Before long, Sousuke was onboard, and the two sped for the Hospital

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Well, the whole story started off comedic, with some Fumoffu action thrown in where necessary. Hopefully the switch to rougher and tougher action didn't ruin the borscht in the end. And, if you like the harder stuff, I hope there was enough in the last few chapters._

_It's time to head back to the Lab. You know what that means. The story will essentially end as it began._

_Sort of._


	23. Chapter 23

**TOKYO NEUROLOGICAL CENTER HELI-DECK**

It was like a famous rock star had arrived.

Flashes of light popped here and there, like flashbulbs of old. Hands reached out, as if the owners had a need to touch the one who walked past them.

The crowd surrounding the Hospital heli-port surged forward and back, like a human wave, drawn by a tide beyond their ken. They had all invested so much of themselves in such a short period of time. They had all watched an incredible drama unfold on television. Everything was surreal.

Sousuke Sagara… in the body of Kaname Chidori… held a fist above his head and swung the hand in a short arc, a farewell and thanks to the pilot aboard the F-35. Because there were eyes everywhere… and everyone was not clued into Mithril's existence… the aircraft could not loiter long. The jey blast from takeoff fluttered Sousuke's skirt, a modern Marilyn Monroe moment.

This crowd response was unexpected, embarrassing. It had also put the young soldier on edge. This was not a good security situation. There could be an enemy hiding in that sea of bodies. His fear suddenly blanked out.

Someone had stepped away from the crowd as it parted. It was as if he… no she… was a god among men or a goddess above all else.

"Kaname," Sousuke mouthed, no longer thinking it weird that he react to his own body that way. Not a man for emotions, he was nonetheless bowled over by internal waves. Mental bubbles floated upward from his mind, as if he walked along a sea bottom again, this time without Arbalest. He started walking towards 'her', step after quick step. Then he slowed. Stopped. The crowd had held him back. So did his confused feelings.

What exactly _was_ he feeling? If he was Al, he could analyze it, accessing cross-references, scholarly works, and pop culture. But, what did he really know about feelings? They had not been issued to him when he fought aside the mujahedeen, or when he was made member of Mithril.

"Are you just going to _stand_ there?" That voice was familiar, of course. It was his own. But, he hadn't spoken. Kaname had. "Aren't you happy-" She had, of course, wanted to ask 'Aren't you happy to see me,' her heart held out in 'her' hands, offered to the returning warrior, like a princess who had spent years sewing some handkerchief to hand a knight returning from a long and valiant quest. "Don't you want to get back into your _own _body, mister!"

Kaname suspected her own feelings, but was not about to let them be known, not to herself.. not to the crowd…and most definitely not to that moody military moron who had stolen her body and taken it on some crazy joy ride!

"**Affirmative!'** Sousuke said, that familiar utterance lifting his spirits some, and Kaname even higher. He was _really_ there. _She_ was really there. There was a chance to set things as close to normal as possible. Maybe even better than their usual normal. He walked over and held his arms apart." _Why?!_ A hug? How could he do _that?_ How could he even consider it?! He hadn't. It had been automatic.

Kaname's eyes widened… well, Sousuke's eyes… and she trembled ever so slightly, lips parting a bit. _What?_ Was he… she… whoever… going to hug her? She frowned, and stomped one foot. That big idiot had made a face… no doubt realizing what he had been about to do,… and placed one hand back behind 'his' back. He held the other out, as if he wanted to shake her hand.

"A _handshake,_ Sousuke." Kaname had to bite of a snide remark, and merely said _"Really?"_

"I-" Sousuke faltered. What should he say? He had been as resourceful as a regiment of soldiers aboard the giant RPV, but now he was as lost as a small boy at a department store, his mother out of sight.

But, Kaname Chidori would pick up the dropped ball and run with it, right? "So-" She coughed, and then stood straighter. Whatever words she intended died on her tongue. She sniffed the air around Sousuke and remarked: "You smell like fish!" Great going girl.

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke replied. "I did just walk out of Tokyo Bay."

"Why are you crying?" That was Anne, speaking to someone.

"I just love teen romance stories," Dr. Hfuhruhurr replied. "They're so touching."

"And this one is refreshingly realistic," Dr. Necessiter chipped in. "I mean… if this was an anime or a FanFiction, the two of them would have run together, kissing, admitting their undying love." He paused and snickered. "With some kind of wardrobe malfunction."

"Maybe a hand accidentally on a breast…" Dr. Hfuhruhurr offered. "Or grabbing a butt."

"**You two!"** Anne looked like she had grown twice in size, swelled up with righteous anger.

"I know… I know…." Dr. Necessiter said. "Save it for the lab."

"If we must," Dr. H sighed. "We _are _the adults here, after all."

"**That's' not it at all!"** Anne shouted. "Don't save it. Get rid of it. Throw it off of the roof for all I care. Don't bring it back downstairs with you."

"She's had a tough day," Dr. Necssiter said to the other scientist.

"Indeed," Dr, Hfuhruhurr replied. "And she _is_ a woman, after all. They are prone to doing this kind of thing, you know. Emotional outbursts and the like."

"Sergeant Sagara, are you armed?" Anne asked in a guttural voice.

"No, Ma'am," Sousuke answered.

"Pity," Anne said pithily. Her eyes looked dark. Her hand twitched. Both scientists took a couple of steps back, remembering what had happened to the jumbo television screen in the lab.

In any case, the scientist's shenanigans had broken the spell, and moved things along. Walking side by side, Sousuke and Kaname followed Anne inside the building, with the two doctors and the mass of technicians, engineers, security personnel, and the like following after them.

There were more people waiting within, lining the walls of the hallway that led to the nearest elevator lobby. They all applauded, not only for Sousuke, but for Kaname, too. And for themselves, and the huge undertaking they had faced, and the hard work and success that had followed.

Some wiseacre there had a glass in hand, usually carrying it in his large sweater pocket to use at drinking fountains. Taking out his car keys, he plinked them hard against the glass, making a noise that brought to mind a classic wedding reception trope.

"**Kiss!"** The joker called out. Soon, everyone picked up the call. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! _Kisskisskisskisskisskisskiss!"_

"Kaname?" Sousuke looked at Kaname quizzically. "Are we obligated… is that an order…."

"**No!"** Kaname blurted out. "Of _course_ it isn't, you big jerk!" Her heart was beating ever so quickly.

"_I'll_ kiss him!" That was one of the earlier harem, a religious acolyte who had stayed behind, wanting to see things to the end.

"Uhhh," Sousuke asid, taking a step back. Wait. At the moment, he was only a 'him' on the inside. "Kaname… what have you been doing…."

"We'll get to that later," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said ominously. "The elevator's here." He called out the names of the people who would take the first car down to the laboratory level.

"Ah hah hah hah hah," Kaname laughed her trademark laugh. "There's_ nothing _to get to."

"That laugh sounds odd," Sousuke noted. "Coming from my own body." He felt someone trying to push him out of the elevator car as the doors started to close. It was Kaname, of course.

Dr Necesitter pulled 'Sousuke' to safety. "That could have been bad," he said, pantomiming a busty chest. "Could have left you flat chested."

"I wouldn't mind being flat-chested again," Sousuke remarked, thinking back to a scene from the anime 'Vandread,' where Buzam… real name Tenmei Uragasumi… said 'It's annoying… I have enough bouncing around on my chest already' when she was rescuing Duelo McFile and Bart Garsus from captivity on Taraak.

"**What?!"** Kaname reacted in knee-jerk fashion without thinking. "Is there something wrong with my breasts?"

"No," Sousuke answred just as automatically. "Not on _you._ I have always thought them attractive. I mean… uhhh-hh-h…."

"-" Kaname flinched. 'She' felt warm inside, but also felt a strong flash of anger and indignation, as if she had been violated in some fashion.

"I wish I had a camera," Dr Hfuhruhurr said.

Dr. Necessiter didn't respond. He was too busy filming things on his cellphone.

"Give… me… _that_…." Anne reached for the phone, which was now held out of her reach.

"She wants me," Dr. Necessiter said to 'Sousuke.' "**Eeee-eee-ee**-_Owww-ww-w_." He had just been kneed nastily in the nads. He dropped the phone, which Anne quickly pocketed. She would delete things and give it back later… maybe.

"Have they been like this all day," Sousuke asked Kaname quietly.

"You don't know the half of it," Kaname sighed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**IN THE LABORATORY**

The laboratory had changed dramatically, in the space of time that Sousuke had been gone.

Most of the larger machinery was there, but much had been taken out or brought in. Certain things had been moved here or there, or had been changed in appearance or composition.

It still looked like an alternate set for one of the Chocolate Factory movies, crossed with a set for the Death Star, 'Voyage to the Bottom Of The Sea', or 'Battlestar Galactica'

"Over here, Sergeant Sagara." Anne said to Sousuke, calling 'him' over to her makeshift altar. "Don't be afraid. I have a quick rite I need to perform." She gathered the necessary materials, as Kaname explained the situation to her classmate.

After the Wiccan had dome what she felt needed to be done, Dr. Hfuhruhurr and Dr. Necessiter explained the basic layout of the room, and what was doing what in which way, leaving Sousuke's head spinning. A medical team weighed and measured his body sizes, to compute necessary data into the system. The put him through a full gamut of neurological tests."

"Do we have time for this?" Sousuke asked, feeling a bit antsy.

"Yes," Dr. Necesitter replied. "Don't you trust us?" He pointed to a wristband t, on Kaname's body's right wrist that was glowing yellow. "That thing is far more sensitive than the rings. You have plenty of time."

"Plenty of time to catch up!" Hfuhruhurr gave him an 'OK' hand gesture. "Don't you want to know what went on when you were gone?" He looked over at Kaname and winked. She stuck out her tongue at him, but didn't protest or make a fuss. He and his fellow scientist gave Sousuke the Cliff Notes version.

"I see," Sousuke said. "That Pony guy showed up here…" He looked around at the towering stacks of machines piled on top of machines resting on top of machines. "…And he was instrumental in making some crucial adjustments."

"_I _sure didn't invite him," Kaname said, making a face.

"You got saved by that boy…." Sousuke looked at Kaname, now. "… And his butler… cook… and gardener…."

"Well," Kaname said. "I wasn't the only one. And don't make it sound like I was at fault somehow. The bad guys were looking for _you!"_

"It is not a problem," Sousuke said in a way that infuriated Kaname, especially since the words came out of her mouth. "And Wraith was here and went." He shrugged. "She could _still_ be here." He raised one of Kaname's hands up and gave no one in particular the finger. If the North Korean spy wasn't here in person, she no doubt had video rolling.

"That's _not _very nice!" Kaname complained. "She's done good by me."

"And our resident witch," Sousuke nodded a head politely to Anne. "Did not find anything about aliens… yet…"

"Still hoping…." Anne said with a smile. "You never know. The truth _is _out there…." She frowned a moment, trying to remember something. She looked at 'Kaname.'"Oh. He said something similar, but not about anything in particular." She rummaged in her purse. "Here" She handed a small red sealed envelope to Kaname.

"He? Who is _this_ from?" Kaname said, unsealing the envelope. It looked to be hand-made and hand-dyed.

"That onmyoji that you met," Anne replied. "He said that he had seen a future clue, but had no explanation for it."

"A clue?" There was a fancy parchment inside. Written on it were these words: [In the future, when you look deep inside, a feather will mean the difference between defeat and victory.] She read it aloud. "A feather? What does _that_ mean?" No one had the slightest inkling.

"Hmmm. I almost forgot," Sousuke said. "Anne. You shot the television screen." Sousuke looked over at the screen. No one had taken it away yet. "Because-"

"**Next subject!"** Anne shook her head.

"The animals came in by twos," Sousuke said hurriedly. "But as of yet, the meteorologists are not predicting a great flood."

"It's alright if one comes," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "I have a rubber ducky." He chuckled. "And Nessie has a blow up girlie. Heh heh." The other scientist stood up, holding up his fists. Dr. Hfuhruhurr did too.

"In your seats," Anne called out in a no-nonsense voice. "Both of you. Don't waste Sousuke's time." Neither of them would argue with _that._

"And the gambling," Sousuke said, meeting 'Kaname's' eyes, not Anne's He should get clarification there, even if it was a touchy subject. "The winnings. They are truly for _us?"_ He was about to say 'never mind,' but thought better of it. He would make a donation to the families of the slain mascots. "How much is there?"

Anne told him the amount. "But, it's not available to you now," she explained. "Mr. Mitsunari was so kind as to take the winnings. He will open a college fund for each of you." She smiled when the two teenagers thanked her.

"You _will_ be going to University wherever she goes, _won't_ you Sousuke?" Dr. Necessiter wondered why both of the Jindai students looked sad for a moment. "She'll still need protecting, _right?"_

Neither Sousuke nor Kaname answered. Neither of them knew what to say. It was hard to predict ahead more than one day at a time, if even that.

"Maybe he'll be assigned to protect _another_ Whispered," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. He had skipped school on the day they were teaching tact and common sense. "Maybe that cute Whispered girl who was here before."

"Cute Whispered girl?" Sousuke asked. No one had mentioned that. Especially not Kaname.

"Captain Testarossa," Anne said, eyes on 'Kaname's' face.

"Of course," Sousuke said. That had slipped his mind. "She told me that." Why did 'Kaname's' face… _his_ face… look like that?

"Yes," Kaname said, her voice volcanic. "She did, _didn't_ she." One hand clenched into a fist. "In Biology class, as I understand it." She smacked that fist into the palm of 'her' other hand. That was one meaty smack. "I would be very interested in hearing about… _that_… specific… Biology class."

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuked said.

"Don't uhhh me, mister!" Kaname's voice had gone up an octave. That had Sousuke frowning. A Specialist shouldn't sound like that. "Biology class! _Now!"_

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke said again.

"**Oooo-ooo-oo-o!"** Kaname shook 'her' fist.

"Their conversations," Dr. Hfuhruhurr laughed. **"**John Steinbeck and Sinclair Lewis have nothing on _them!"_

"Righto! It's almost as good as the stuff they put on Bazooka bubble gum wrappers," Dr Necesitter remarked.

"Just you wait," Kaname promised. "I'll get you to tell me later."

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke said for the third time in a row. 'He. was sweating up a storm.

"And stop sweating like that!" Kaname growled. "That's _my _body you're getting all wet. That's _gross!"_

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied, snapping out of his funk. "Immediately!" He paused. "How?"

"Why are you asking _me,_ you big idiot?!" Kaname was standing now and stamping one of Sousuke's feet.

"Well-" Sousuke began. "-As you said… it is _your_ body, right?"

""**Oooo-ooo-oo-o!"** Kaname put 'her' hands on 'her' hips.

"Poetry," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. "Pure poetry."

"Let's settle down, you two," Anne said sternly. "If you want to go to sleep tonight in your own bodies, you might consider keeping your emotions in check until after the transfer." She thanked the medical team as they were leaving. Sousuke had checked out alright.

"Here. Wear _this,"_ Dr. Necssiter said, handing something to Sousuke that looked like an overly-large golden hairnet studded with spark plugs and old-style radio antennas.

"You too," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said, handing one to Kaname. "These are electrostatic filters. We are attuning them to your basic brainwaves, now." The strange soothing serenade of an oscilloscope filled their ears they donned the devices. Two adjacent screens charted and graphed the recordings, which were then shunted to more advanced machines for computational analysis, quantification, and quantum molding "They will help your bodies retain 'you,' that's inside you, and accept 'you' from inside the other, transferred to you."

"Can you say it any clumsier?" Dr. Necssiter complained. "We don't want remnant pieces of the other person staying inside your brains. The filters will help with that. So will Anne's mumbo jumbo… or so she claims…." He yelped when she stepped hard on his foot.

"Okay," Anne said, shepherding Kaname and Sousuke over to the far side of the room. "Before we proceed, do either of you need to use the little boy's room or little girl's room?"

"You mean b-i-g boy's room," Dr. Hfuhruhurr said. _"Right,_ Miss Chidori." He winked at 'Kaname.' "Heh heh heh heh." 'Sousuke' raised one of her eyebrows. 'Kaname' ignored him.

Hearing two 'No's, Anne said "Alright… in you go…it's a two-seater, now." She motioned towards the New Magic Egg, glowing and vibrating, as if it were eager for their arrival. "I'll attach the leads and everything else, after the two of you sit down and apply the restraints." She did just that, when the two were ready.

The technicians and engineers all took their places. No interlopers were allowed into the laboratory now, no matter how hard they may have worked earlier, or what solution they may have contributed.

Sousuke didn't know why, but he felt like hollding 'Kaname's' hand. Was that something he should ask about first? Was it something he could bring himself to do? He lifted up one of Kaname's hands, and brought it to hover over his own hand. While holding his internal debate, he heard Anne call out "There can be **no** touching."

"_What_ touching?" Kaname asked, unaware. She had been focused on keeping her nerves in check. She had been through so much. She just needed to hold together a short time more.

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke said before whistling, looking up at the roof of the Egg, which showed a swirling pattern like something out of the psychedelic 70s.

"Let's hope this works like with the chimps," one technician said.

"What?" An engineer asked. "You mean, one comes out picking his or her nose?"

"Chimps?" Sousuke asked Kaname.

"I'll tell you later," Kaname promised. She didn't want to think about success or failure now. She had seen all of the bad outcomes.

The process continued on track, without any untoward electronic variances or stray magnetic fields. A countdown began, after everyone wished the two Intronauts good luck.

***10***

***9***

***8***

***7***

***6***

***5***

"Wait… wait… wait…." Someone had slipped past the Security guards who had been paid a bribe to keep him out. "Stop the count down!" It was Reginald. "I insist that _I _be the one to push the button!"

"Stuff it, Reggie!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr put his hand at the small of the assistant-administrators back and began pushing him out of the room.

"We should have a little symmetry here," Dr. Necessiter said. "It was Anne who started all of this…." He waved his hands in a gesture of contrition. "I mean… she's the one who accidentally threw the Big Switch. So, it's only right that she should be the one to push the Big Button."

"Okay," Anne agreed. She was superstitious. Now that the doctor had said that, she felt it necessary to do so. "First… if the medical staff will please check our patients again…." She wanted to make certain that Sousuke and Kaname's vital signs were stable, and that no dials or displays showed unfavorable readings. When she was satisfied, she said "Resume countdown."

***4***

***3***

***2***

***1***

Anne pushed down on the large red button. Someone had placed a piece of masking tape across it, and wrote the word 'Hope' with a Shapie.

"**ZERO!"** Dr. Hfuhruhurr called out in dramatic fashion.

Dr. Necessiter rubbed his hands in anticipation.

The room went dark. Pitch black. There wasn't the slightest illumination. except from a cellphone penlight. The machines were dead silent. Desperate and uncertain whispers were the only sounds heard.

_This had never happened before._

"There's no earthly way of knowing," Anne quoted Gene Wilder. "Which direction we are going."

"The suspense is terrible," a technician said, quoting the same movie and same character. "I hope it will last!"

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**ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP ZHOOOP **

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_**WINGDOOP WINGDOOP WINGDOOP WINGDOOP WINGDOOP WINGDOOP **_

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**WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO-WEO**

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_**BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG BING BONG **_

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The machines all sprung back to life, one after the other, chugging along at their intended tasks. Beams of light shot forth and painted the ceiling, like an old time Laser Show. Sparkles of light drifted about, like something out of Faeirie, or the worst drug-borne nightmare.

The Egg glowed with a soft blush… which changed to a weak pink… which graduated to a pulsing rose, watermelon, and rouge. Next came salmon, coral and peach. And, without hesitation, it exploded with fuscia, magenta, and boysenberry.

_wimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmowimmo_

The thrumming sound practically poured from the pulsating Egg, filling the room with its vibrations, making the onlookers feel as if they were seated in one of those vibrating chairs that vendors tend to leave at airports.

"Cross your fingers everybody!" Dr. Hfuhruhurr called out, watching a readout.

"Here it comes!" Dr Necssiter was hugging the other man in his excitement. He let go and spun away when he realized what he was doing. He tried to hug Anne on purpose, but was slapped across the cheek.

_**WIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMOWIMMO**_

Now the Egg was flashing through every possible color known to mankind, and then some, with no semblance of order or purpose. The flashing grew more intense, and the pulses came ever so quicker. Those outside the chamber put their fingers in their ears, to block the crescendoing cacophony.

*boop*

Then that was it. The machines all powered down. The room light came back on. The Egg was back to normal.

"Are they alright!" Anne called out.

"Are they who they were?" Dr Hfuhruhurr asked.

"Where am I?" Dr Necessiter asked, still dizzy from the forceful blow.

"Kaname?" A voice asked.

"Sousuke?"

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**WITHIN A CORDONED-OFF AREA OF THE LABORATORY**

After the hubbub died down, and all initial medical checks were done, there was a semblance of quiet.

Sousuke was happy to be back in his old body. He received an affectionate knock on the noggin when he started practicing Sambo moves to check his reflexes. Kaname was ecstatic to be back in her body again, and would even forgive Sousuke his military mores. To a point.

But, it wasn't long before that classic look was in the blue-haired girls eyes. Comfortably back within her own skin, her natural tendencies were returning with a vengeance. "So, Sousuke-"

"Kaname," Sousuke rushed to speak. Having seen different ways of thinking, he was now more likely to apply military methods to his thinking, not just his actions. His awakened mind suggested a strategy. Talk before Kaname can talk. "I have a very serious question." The look on his face stopped the girl dead in her tracks.

"Yes?' Kaname said, quizzically. Why did it just feel that she had come in second place in a track meet, or had just been defeated in some kind of a battle or contest?

"While _you_ were in _my_ body…." He folded his arms across his chest and threw his chin out some. "…You did not do anything weird, _did _you… or anything dangerous…." He threw her patented words back at her. Not many soldiers ever expected to see their tossed grenade come flying back at them.

"_Me?_ Weird?" Kaname seemed affronted, but the look in her eyes made it seemed as if she were recollecting something. "Of _course _not, you big buffoon!" She harrumphed, happy to be reacquainted with that old friend.

"I guess it depends on what you mind by weird," Dr. Necessiter interjected, before coughing 'key' and 'winkie.' That had Kaname Chidori freezing up.

"It's more a matter of what she did to get _other people_ wanting to do something weird or dangerous to you," Dr. Hfuhruhurr remarked, taking a roll of paper out of a front lab coat pocket. He held it up and let it unroll. There was a long list of names and numbers. "I promised certain people that I would present this to you."

"What is it?" Sousuke asked, curious. A list of suspected traitors or terrorists? Something that required his special set of skills to overcome?

"A list of names and telephone numbers," Dr. Hfuhruhurr replied. "Some just want to go out to eat. Most want to cuddle, and grow a lot closer to you. Some probably want to jump in the sack first, and ask questions later."

"Uhhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h." New mental tendencies or not, he was still Sousukae Sagara. "I mean….." He looked down at the paper he now held, as if it were a large Loony Tunes type bomb, and he saw the sparkle of a fuse behind Kaname's eyes. There were so many names. Some had 'XOXOX' next to them. Some had 'XXX.'

"Sousuke," Kaname said sharply. "Why are you _still_ holding that paper?" Her glance bored into him like a diamond-tipped drill head into granite.

"Unknown," Sousuke answered like Al. He let the paper fall from his hand. Dr. Necessiter snagged it mid air, and stashed it down his trousers.

"And about school-" Now Kaname had finally gotten around to the topic. Everybody in the room who knew more than she did, were aware that it was t-h-e topic. Two of those people felt compelled to come to Sousuke's rescue. They knew it would only be temporary; but, the boy had been through a lot. This would be like the last meal for a condemned man.

"Sergeant," Dr. Hfuhruhurr started. "There were so many things that you missed, not being here with us. There's a lot that Anne over there can tell you." Anne was speaking with Mr. Mitsunari "For example, a lot of our success today came from our learning the quantum language."

"Natch!" Dr. Necessiter said. "It's almost as if various particles can speak to one another in a quantum language. We had to decipher that language, so that we could not only speak that tongue with our machines, but also so that we could be the ones controlling the conversation."

"But, it's far simpler to say than to do," Dr. Hfuhruhurr claimed. "There are many random particles, always wanting to butt in on the conversation. We have to keep them away. If our relationship with properly moving particles is like sailing tiny ships on a calm and serene lake, the random particles are like torpedoes wanting to sink those ships, or a strong wave looking to capsize them."

"The school-" Kaname tried again, with no more success than before.

"We also made great strides with Quantum energy teleportation," Dr. Necessiter remarked. "The original hypothesis was put forward by Japanese physicist Masahiro Hotta of Tohoku University. He proposed that it may be possible to teleport energy by exploiting quantum energy fluctuations of an entangled vacuum state of a quantum field."

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke said.

"The hypothesis proposes that energy may be injected into a zero-point fluctuation of the field at one place and extracted from a fluctuation at another place," Dr. Hfuhruhurr explained. "Even for interstellar distance energy transfer, the amount of teleported energy is nonzero, but negligibly small. In contrast, the teleportation protocol will be effective in small quantum worlds of nanoscale devices like quantum computers."

"School," kaname said.

"Equally important," Dr. Necssiter said. "We discovered the quantum analog of the well-known classical maximum power transfer theorem. Our theoretical framework considers the continuous steady-state problem of coherent energy transfer through an N-node bosonic network coupled to an external dissipative load. We were able to present an exact solution for optimal power transfer in the form of the maximum power transfer theorem known in the design of electrical circuits. We provided analytical expressions for both the maximum power delivered to the load as well as the energy transfer efficiency which are exact analogs to their classical counterparts. Our results are applicable to both ordered and disordered quantum networks with graph-like structures ranging from nearest-neighbor to all-to-all connectivities. This work points towards universal design principles which adapt ideas of power transfer from the classical domain to the quantum regime for applications in energy-harvesting, wireless power transfer, energy transduction, as well as future applications in quantum power circuit design."

"-" Sousuke was too flummoxed to even say 'Uhhh'. Kaname was equally mute.

After that, the two scientists discussed quantum entanglement and the fluctuation dissipation theorem. The two teenagers looked at one another, as if they were in a small room in Khanka, standing near a medical enclosure, while enemy soldiers fired rounds in their direction.

_Where was a truck or an Arm Slave when they needed it!_

"But the real deal was the silence of the lambs," Dr. Hfuhruhurr opined.

"The movie?" Kaname asked. "The one with Anthony Hopkins and Jodie…"

"Foster," Dr Necessiter said. "A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again. Oh, and Senator, just one more thing: love your suit! Great movie. But not that."

"It happened during our test runs," Dr. Hfuhruhurr began. When he saw Anne make a 'knife across the throat' gesture, he left out the earlier gory details. "During the test with the pair of lambs, it turned out that one slipped free of its leg bonds, and sidled up against the other. They were in contact with one another during the process."

"That's when something unusual happened," Dr. Necessiter said. "After the last bolt of electricity charged the Egg, the pair bleated in unison. Stopped. And bleated again. They repeated those actions twice more."

"Each repeat took exactly the same amount of time," Dr Hfuhruhurr noted. "But that wasn't the strangest part. During the silence between bleats, the exact same machine noises were heard. But, _that _should be impossible. Those noises are not cyclical. Thy follow a very definite pattern, one that takes a lengthy period of time before repeating. There is only one possible solution."

**"Time,"** the two scientists said at the same time. _"We somehow affected time!"_

"Don't let them get started-" Anne said, walking over, her fellow administrator in tow. "Their heads might explode. That will leave us short-handed, since they are the two who have been tasked with cleaning this place up." There was some mustard on those last words.

"Next time," Dr. Necessiter said, ignoring Anne's words. "We can use four lambs… ten lambs… _fifty_ lambs!"

"Isn't it exciting!" Dr Hfuhruhurr said, close to hyperventilating. "We're on to something new. Something huge."

"I hate to burst your bubbles," an engineer said, walking over, speaking in a thick Slavic accent. By the sound of it, he very _much_ wanted to burst their bubbles. "But it is _not_ new. My sister's husband's cousin works in Belarus, and he has scientific connections in Mother Russia. He mentioned something about experiments involving dolphins instead of lambs. He wouldn't say more than that, without risking his life and that of his entire family."

"Dolphins," Dr. Necsssiter guffawed. "How stupid can you be, falling for a ruse like _that?_ Dolphins! You'd need a giant Aquarium, and a huge staff to take care of everything. Dolphins. How useless. What can you do with a dolphin when it dies? Nothing! A lamb, you can eat. With mint jelly!" He did not see the fury in Anne's eyes. She turned to speak with Mr. Mitsubari again, who nodded his head, a reluctant look on his face.

"It's not the whole dolphin," the engineer began. "Jut a large series of dolphin brains in containers. The brain is all they need. An intelligent brain, like a dolphin… a chimpanzee… or even a pig."

"Keeping brains alive in a jar?" Dr. Hfuhruhurr smirked. "You mean like 'They Saved Hitler's Brain'?" That was a 1968 science fiction film in which Nazi officials remove Adolf Hitler's living head and hide it in the fictional South American country of Mandoras, so that they can resurrect the Third Reich for the future. Fast forwarding into the 1960s, the surviving officials kidnap a scientist in an attempt to keep Hitler alive. Various intelligence agencies, aware of the evil plot, recruit secret agents to bust the Nazi officials. "Sure. Of course. How hard could _that _be?"

"You almost had me going there," Dr. Necssiter said. "Almost… until you mention the Ruskies. The Russians? Come on. The Russians. They have a hard time putting beets in containers and making borscht."

"_Nnn-nn-n."_ Sousuke made a low noise in the back of his throat. It wasn't because he disliked Lieutenant Commander Kalinin's borscht. He did. That man's recipe, a memento of his beloved dead wife, included miso and chocolate, and was so bad that Tessa had wondered if it was actually a dish that the dearly departed wife had served up as revenge for him being away so much. No. His noise was a disavowal of the scientist's remark. He had learned through experience, that the Russian's had very good scientists, and excellent military engineers. He coughed, almost choked, thinking of that borscht now. "So... after all that scientific experimentation… they found no source of the Whispers?"

"No, they didn't," Kaname replied. "She didn't look disappointed. She looked determined. "Sousuke… school …."

"Ahhh-hh-h." Mr. Mitsunari said, motioning for Souske and Kaname to step over to his side. "There is someone who would like to meet you two, seeing the great scientific work you have inspired…" He gave Sousuke a look that told him the as yet unnamed person must be clued in about Mithril. "….And the great service you have done for Japan…." He turned and spoke politely to someone else. "Mister Prime Minister." He bowed, as did the two teens.

"Hello," Yoshihiko Hatoyama said politely, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, and wearing a watch that cost more than most Japanese used buses. His tie was so flat, it must have been pressed. His teeth were so white, that he must have a dentist on staff at all times. "I am so pleased to meet the two of you." He couldn't help himself. Seeing Sousuke's face he added: "Fully clothed this time."

Sousuke was perplexed. First by the man's words. Second, by the way that Kaname's face had turned dark red. Was that her circulatory problem again? Funny, he had never noticed it when he was in her body.

"Kaname?" Sousuke asked.

"_Shhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h_!" Kaname put a finger to her mouth. One hand tensed up some, as if she was holding a phantom halisen.

The two students, both scientists, and Anne chatted amiably with Mr. Hatoyama for a bit, before the duties of his office pulled him away.

"I'm confused," Sousuke said.

"What else is new?" Kaname quipped.

"When the Prime Minister mentioned clothing…." Sousuke persisted. Now Kaname was fluttering both hands. Why?

"Remember when I mentioned wardrobe malfunctions," Dr. Necessiter put in helpfully. "Well, Kaname here-" He couldn't continue. Anne's hand was clamped over his mouth, and she held a stapler gun aimed at his crotch. Discretion proved to indeed be the better part of valor.

"**School!"** Kaname said abruptly, her turn to work at changing the subject, changing things back to the subject she's been trying to hear about all that time!

Sousuke looked at Dr. Hfuhruhurr. He looked at Dr. Necessiter. He looked at too. He would even accept help from that rude Reginald guy. Anyone, who might change the subject. "You say… school…."

"Yes, Sousuke." Kaname began tapping a foot again. Slowly at first. That was the equivalent of the rattle on a rattlesnake. "You know… that place you often show up… and sometimes blow up… yes… school!"

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke said. "What _about_ school?"

"Is the school still intact, after your time there as _me?"_ Kaname's foot tapped faster. "Is my reputation still good?"

"Yes," Sousuke replied. "The school is still intact."

"As intact as I left it?" Kaname asked, eyeing Sousuke's face like a hawk, her foot moving impossibly fast.

"Affirmative," Sousuke said truthfully. The school building was still intact. Yes, by a miracle it was generally unharmed, despite everything that had happened there. The nearby schools and temples, not so much. But she already knew about _that._

"And my reputation?" Kaname asked. Her foot was dead still. That was even more frightening. Her voice could have frozen steel to the point of shattering.

"Reputation," Sousuke said, trying to think of a truthful answer that gave little historical perspective. His recent history would probably come back to haunt him soon enough. "Let me say… that during my time as Kaname Chidori… I learned a great deal about you and your reputation."

"Really?" Kaname asked, intrigued. What had he learned?

"I found it incredible," Sousuke said factually, "Just how many people respected you…relied upon you… and required you. Because of your reputations, the things that you said were immediately acted on. If I personally had said them, I would be ignored, or my suggestion would automatically be discarded or denied." He sounded somewhat disgruntled, having heard a lot of things said about Sousuke Sagara when he was supposedly Kaname Chidori.

"Sousuke, that's because-" Kaname didn't finish. She felt sorry for Sousuke; but, he only had himself to blame. He was a walking natural disaster, whether he wore khakis… camouflage… or a high school uniform.

"I saw a lot through a girl's eyes, so to speak." Sousuke said, somewhat pensive. "What a girl's life must be like, compared to a boy's." He didn't say 'normal boy's.' He didn't have to. He had never been normal. For a short while, he went on to describe the things he had seen and experienced… how they had made him feel… and how it might change his thoughts and deeds in the future.'

"That's amazing," Kaname remarked, truly impressed, and not a little bit moved, emotionally.

"How about you, Kaname?" Sousuke cocked his head. "Did you learn something about boys?" He paused, giving her a yearning look that she hadn't seen before. "Something about _me?"_

"I-" Kaname swallowed hard. She had been so caught up in things, she never had a chance to give that type of thing too much thought. The things that she had learned the hard way, were not exactly a topic for public conversation. "No… I suppose I didn't learn anything…."

"_Au contraire."_ Dr. Necessiter said, holding up a phone that Anne had not confiscated. Remembering that time in the Men's lavatory, he pushed a button, bringing up an audio recording at full volume:

"**IT'S **_**HUGE!"**_

That exclamation was followed by the sound of a urinal flushing. The remark left nothing to the imagination.

No one spoke. You could have heard a pin drop. Sousuke blinked rapidly. Kaname turned the color of a ripe strawberry. Dr. Hfuhruhurr slapped Dr. Necessiter hard on the back. Anne and Mr. Mitsunari looked at one another and nodded.

After that little escapade, Kaname had stopped asking about the school. She wanted to hear about Sousuke's battle from his perspective. She was saddened by the death of the mascots, and at all of the damage done. She was thrilled to hear about the giant aircraft, his stories about it sounding like something out of a fairy tale.

Anne had a fresh cart of food and drinks wheeled in, for any who might be hungry. Drs. Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter took delivery of something through a courier. It was something they had sent out for mounting at a fast fabrication store, and intended as a gift for the two Jindai stalwarts, had the transfer been a success. It was a fancy wooden plaque. The 'Big Switch' that had started all of their troubles had been mounted to it. Underneath it, in gold lettering, were three words:

'The Big Switch.'

After a suitable period of time had passed, a team of different medical specialists ran Sousuke and Kaname through a battery of tests, and drew numerous blood samples for future study After the two got dressed again, Anne called a limousine to give them a ride to their homes. The wait wouldn't be long, and should have been uneventful.

If there was any lesson the two should have learned about that laboratory it was this:

_Expect the unexpected._

One thing is certain about coincidences. The phenomenon fascinates believers and skeptics alike. It's a porthole into one of the most interesting philosophical questions we can ask: Are the events of our lives ultimately objective or subjective? Is there a deeper order, an overarching purpose to the universe? Or are we the lucky accidents of evolution, living our precious but brief lives in a fundamentally random world that has only the meaning we choose to give it? For those with a highly empirical bent, a coincidence is happenstance, a simultaneous collision of two events that has no special significance and obeys the laws of probability. To the mystically inclined, however, coincidence is a synchronicity, the purposeful occurrence of two seemingly unrelated events.

In A.D. 66 a comet was seen across the sky in Jerusalem just as the Jewish people were revolting against the Romans. In 1066, another comet appeared, just before the fateful Battle of Hastings was fought over the throne of England. Were these merely strange coincidences… or are comets portents of divine intent?

The events that followed next were a coincidence. The actions that would occur as a result of that coincidence, were _not._ Whether or not they were a matter of divine intent had better be left to the spiritual experts who had visited the laboratory earlier in the day.

Inexplicably, Eri Kagurazaka, who had come to the hospital to visit an aunt, had found her way down to that sub-level, without being detained. Perhaps she had been resolute and completely convincing, when she told anyone she met that she was a guardian of two students she had seen in the hallways earlier. It took her a while to find where they were being sequestered, but find them she _did_. Her voice was a shock to the system for those two particular people in the room:

"**OMIGOD**… **YOU'RE BOTH SAFE AND SOUND**… **I'M SO HAPPY**… **I WAS SO SCARED.**"

At a lower voice level, the teacher followed up by saying: "Is this the hospital where you are being treated, Mr. Sagara? And, after all of the terrible things that happened at the school today, I'm happy to see you're still in one piece, Miss Chidori. Are you here for treatment of your organic brain injury?" Her subsequent words would have little to no register after that bombshell.

The firestorm that followed showed kinship to the day's prior thermobaric barbeques.

"_**S-o-o-o-o-u-u-u-u-s-s-s-s-k-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-y-!-!-!**_

Sousuke, who never ran from anything, took off at a quick job. Kaname, who never let anyone get the best of her, took off in close pursuit.

Those two," Dr, Hfuhruhurr said fondly. "They are so close, but at the same time, they are so far apart."

"Right, pal." Dr. Necessiter said in a rare show of unity.

"Funny you should say that," Anne said.

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**AFTERWARD**

Sousuke and Kaname still attend the same school, of course. They are back on their usual routine, as usual as it can ever be. There will be discussions about the things that happened, of course. There will be resultant trips to the school infirmary. But, there would be more than that. There would be discussions about how Kaname would be stepping down from her position as student Council Vice President, according to school rules. There would be guessing about who might take her place. At some point, Sousuke would work up the gumption to ask if he could hold Kaname's hand on a walk home. She would happily accept that request. Life would go on, without either of them seeing the storm clouds growing on the horizon.

Services were held for the mascots who died, and a whole nation grieved, watching on TV. Tamon lived the life of luxury for a short while, before he was bilked out of the majority of his reward money by a large-chested Cuban woman with a spiffy tattoo on her buttocks, and a large portable pharmaceutical kit. Hiroshi was given an offer by Mithril, which he happily accepted. There was no way that he could turn down a salary like that. He wanted to learn to be an A.S. pilot. Coincidence struck again, when a visiting administrator took a liking to him, and suggested that he be put at the front of the line for the next Lambda Driver. Arabiki was gifted with a job as a spokesman and part-owner of a meat-packing company, specializing in all varieties of cured meats and sausages.

The amount of scientific discoveries made at the Hospital Laboratory in such a short period time and by so many different types of researchers would have ramifications for decades to come. There were so many new theories to expand and details to discover, that laboratories sprung up like a bountiful crop of mushrooms. Those laboratories needed sharp minds and cutting intellects. They needed the best of the best. Fearless leaders. Clever puzzle-solvers. A slender and attractive woman with green hair and orange highlights was given full and sole control over the revamped laboratory at the Neurological Hospital. A wizened old man with a prosthetic eye and bad halitosis was sent off to run a remote and well-funded lab in northern Norway that sits under nearly 700 feet of ice. Getting there requires a flight to a remote Norwegian town, then a drive and a ferry to the trail leading to the entrance of the tunnel of Svartisen glacier, in which the lab was dug. In good weather, walking takes an hour, but snowy conditions can make it a four- or five-hour trudge. A younger scientist sporting an enormous spherical mass of red curly hair and large protruding front teeth was rocketed away to spearhead work at the South Pole's IceCube Neutrino Observatory, which picks up massless particles called neutrinos. These subatomic bits come from the sun and cosmic rays, and harmlessly pass through normal matter and are normally hard to track. IceCube's particle detector is the largest in the world, at nearly a quarter of a cubic mile. Both men were under a restraining order that prohibited them from returning to the Tokyo facilities.

A wealthy scientist working as a sponsor for the Jindai Engineering Club took interest in their demonstration of HAL2000. With funds passed over and under the table, he purchased the robot and brought it to a large fully furnished laboratory complex, where it had its mental components greatly expanded. Hooked up to a bastardized version of the Summit computer built for The U.S. Department of Energy's Oak Ridge national Laboratory, a monster of a machine with 2,282,544 IBM Power 9 cores... 2,090,880 Nvidia Volta GV100 cores... and a theoretical peak performance of 187.66 petaflops... the machine intellect continues to learn… to grow… and to scheme. On a lark, it designed a business card for itself one sunny afternoon, borrowing from pop culture. The card read 'SKYNET' in capital letters. Underneath were the words '7.7 billions served.'

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**POSTSCRIPT**

So, the body of the story is now done. Sure, it's a bit long, but it's certainly no '_The Subspace Emissary's Worlds Conquest_,' a fanfic loosely based on Super Smash Bros. Brawl, over 3,500,000 words long… or 'In Search of Lost Time', a seven-volume and 1,267,069 word long novel that's considered by some to be the longest true novel ever published.

It's probably not wise to attempt to download either of those two works, unless you have your own Summit computer.

There will be an [Epilogue] at some point, one that just has to be done, but by its very nature might not be any fun to read.

Stay tuned.


	24. Epilogue

_Okay. One final chapter. Can you make it to the finish line?_

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**EPILOGUE**

Sousuke had chosen fishing.

Kaname had commandeered him one day after school… rushing to avoid the stampede of people who wanted a piece of her time. She told him that the next time would be his choice.

"_Next time?"_ He had asked, innocently. 'Don't you want a next time?' That had been Kaname's response, her lips quivering, before the danger signals flashed in her eyes and she gave him a lecture about her needing to get away from things, and his needing to be there with her… for her protection, of course.

He knew quite well, that if you're the kind of angler who is always on the hunt for exciting new places to fish, places where getting there is almost as much fun as the fishing itself, then Hachijojima has everything one might want.

Hachijojima is one of eleven islands found off Tokyo Bay the southernmost island of the Izu Seven Island group bordering on the Phillppine Sea.. It's part of a volcanic island chain offering a wide variety of wild and natural experiences. Hachijojima in particular is one of the farthest islands from the center of Tokyo, which only heightens the natural wonder that comes with a remote fishing experience

The two students stood topside on the white and blue ship, the Salvia-Maru, a four-deck and 120 meter passenger and cargo ship of the Tokai Kisen line, with capacity of 814 travelers aside from the two of them. The ship's amenities included a restaurant, a room of ceiling-high automatic vending machines, and coin-operated showers. He had sprung for a deluxe cabin, complete with its own veranda.

Sousuke's choice had initially been well received. "I've heard of that place," Kaname had said. "I've heard it called Japan's Hawaii!" She had talked about needing a new swim suit… which he could help pick out… plus a new sun bonnet, walking shoes, binoculars for watching birds and whales, and more. When he told her that it was a fishing trip, her mouth had fallen open… her eyes had narrowed… and she hadn't spoken for the rest of that day.

"You said _I _should choose," he had told her when she would look at him again. "_I_ chose." He had added: "I had hoped that you would accompany me. I do _not _have to stay by your side at all times. If I ask headquarters, Wraith will take over." Kaname had changed horses in the middle of the stream again, hearing that. Saying that the trip 'would almost be like a date,' she had started getting excited again.

Sousuke knew guns. He did _not_ know girls, even after being one for a short while. But, it was not a problem. He had always fished alone. It would be nice to have company.

There are two ways to find fishing peace in Hachijojima: fly or take a ferry. Hopping on a plane will get you there in fifty-five minutes, while taking the ferry is a ten-hour experience.

Sousuke was in no rush. He had arranged a room at a simple inn. Crossing a large stretch of ocean on a boat is something everyone should enjoy at least once in their life. You see wildlife you wouldn't normally see, doing things you wouldn't normally see them doing, and it takes the already wonderful Hachijojima experience to another level. He was no stranger to the sea; but, this wasn't work… there would be no military interruptions. After all of the stress he had been under, he needed to cleanse his soul again, so to speak. For safety sake, after they would be out and about in plain view for such a long period, they would fly home.

"This is all _so_ beautiful," Kaname said, one hand holding her fluttering sun hat down. She wore a sky blue dress, carried a vibrant orange day bag, and sported a bright yellow pair of sneakers. Her dictionary didn't contain the word 'inconspicuous', today. She too had been under immense strain, in the lab and afterwards upon her return to school.

"Yes," Sousuke said, looking at Kaname, and wondering why there were butterflies battling in his belly. "You…_ it_ is…." He wore a pleasant civilian ensemble, picked out by his travelling companion, of course. A deep blue shirt, pressed khaki slacks, and a pair of fashionable black sandals. He had been threatened to within an inch of his life, if he dared strap on a pair of boots. Or carry any weapons, for that matter.

His trusty Glock had _accidentally_ fallen into his fishing case, of course.

"Do you think it makes up for it?" Kaname said, a gleam in her eye. She had caught his slight slip, knowing the meaning, even if _he_ did not. But, she felt just the slightest taste of bitterness. She was still Kaname Chidori, and her world had been turned topsy-turvey yet again.

"For the karaoke?" Sousuke asked. "You said that if _I_ did that with _you_-"

"No," Kaname said, shaking her head. "Not the karaoke." She frowned. "But… you almost ruined _that, _too. Why you had to choose _that_ song… and sing it like a strangled cat…."

"Kaname?" Sousuke raised one eyebrow, and ran a hand through his hair. It needed to be cut again. He considered asking Kaname. "_Which_ song." He had been ordered to sing so many. _"This_ one?" He cleared his voice and spoke, rather than sang: "But shoot it in the right direction ..hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah… Make makin' it your intention… ooh yeah, ooh yeah…Live those dreams…Scheme those schemes…Got to hit me… hit me…Hit me… hit me…Hit me with those laser beams…Ow, ow, ow…Laser beam me…Ah, ah, ah…Relax… Don't do it-"

"**Stop!"** Kaname reached up to cover Sousuke's mouth with her hand. He was too quick, and she fell forward into thin air. She felt him save her from falling, pulling her close. Her hat fell off, but he caught it without even looking. "I still have nightmares from that song," she continued when she was able. She was feeling dizzy… not from the close call, but from the close contact with her companion.

"I find that curious," Sousuke remarked. "I would have thought that the song _you _chose would have done that." He took his cellphone out of his pants pocket, held it up, and pushed play:

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**I WILL ESCAPE FROM THIS CAGE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

Even at low volume, the song somehow sounded loud. A young mother took her little boy by the hand and led him to another part of the ship.

_LISTEN UP, OLD MAN, AND I'LL TELL YOU HOW I FEEL!_

_WORKING WITH YOU MAKES MY BLOOD CONGEAL!_

_YOU CALL ME TO BOTHER ME ON VACATION!_

_THIS JOB'S A DISEASE, VACAY'S THE VACCINATION!_

_THIS DEATH METAL SONG IS STRESS RELIEVER!_

_YOUR COMPANY'S VALUES!? I'M NO TRUE BELIEVER!_

_YOU'RE HAPPY COMING IN WHEN YOU'RE SICK AND DYING!_

_FOR ME, COMING IN IS MORE KICK AND CRYING!_

_AND THE CUSTOMERS CAN ANNOY ME TO DEATH!_

_I'VE NO OTHER WORD TO RHYME_

_WHEN I THINK OF THEM, I PRAY FOR DEATH!_

The song had played to a video from Aggretsuko, naturally, since it was a song that Retsuko had sung. Kaname had found the red panda character kawaii, despite Sousuke's description of the mascot version and its actor. But, there was far more to it than that. Normally, Kaname would rather have a tooth pulled out without anesthesia, than listen to Death Metal. But, she could relate, and she too had needed to shout... some... things... out.

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**I WILL ESCAPE FROM THIS CAGE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

"**Sousuke!"** Kaname reached for the phone. "Not here! _Not now!" _She tried again, no luckier than before. She stopped and stared. There were two young men dressed like metal fans, doing air guitar to the song. She and Sousuke always seemed able to flush out the crazies.

_I'M IN CHARGE OF DIGITAL, OUTBOUND CALLS, AND MAKING SALES NUMBERS!_

_AND OF COURSE I'M FAILING ALL THREE!_

_YOU SIT ME DOWN AND SAY I OPEN FAKE ACCOUNTS?_

_YOU'LL BE HANGING FROM A TREE!_

_YOUR TELLERS ARE SLOW AND THE LINE TAKES FOREVER!_

_YOUR CUSTOMERS DUMB, BASIC THINGS THEY CAN'T REMEMBER!_

_NEXT PERSON WHO GIVES US SHIT ABOUT NEEDING THEIR ID,_

_I'LL RIP OPEN THEIR CHEST AND PLAY BASEBALL WITH THEIR SPLEEN!_

Sousuke felt a strange tingling inside. Here he was playing a song he had no real desire to listen to, causing Kaname to get worked up. But, it was enjoyable, seeing her animated like that. It was almost like pulling a piece of yarn away from a kitten. His nascent smile died at birth, as he remembered what happened to his pets in the mujahedeen camps, and what he had seen done to animals while in training with the KGB. But, that memory was blown away by the salty sea wind. Kaname was no longer in his body, or mixed in with his own mind. But, he seemed to have higher spirits ever since the incident.

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**I WON'T BE A MINDLESS SLAVE!**

**FEEL MY PAIN! FEEL MY RAGE!**

**GRAAAAAAAAAH!**

*OTHER GENERIC DEATH METAL GRUNTS AND ROARS*

**SHITTY BOSS! SHITTY JOB! SHITTY BANK!**

*INCREDIBLY AWESOME DEATH METAL GUITAR SOLO*

"**Finally!"** Kaname said, when Sousuke shut the song off before the brief bit remaining finished playing. She was feeling a bit miffed. Usually it didn't take her long to smack Sousuke into shape, so to speak. He had kept going and seemed to be in high spirits. Transfixed, she hadn't smacked him. In the past, she might have given him the halisen once, twice, and thrice. Was she growing soft? She seemed somewhat more stolid… more composed… when faced with the big idiot's antics. "As I was saying, do you think it makes up for it? For all that happened to me… my body… and my reputation…"

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke looked troubled. He couldn't change the past; but, he was still tormented some, seeing all that had happened. Death and destruction was only part of it. He felt as if he had failed to protect Kaname, even though she hadn't been present in spirit, and he had not been present in body. "I didn't think that I _had to_ make up for things. How can-"

"Well," Kaname said crisply. "Let's do the math." Bad choice of words. There was a little more than a week before the two of them had to make their presentation at the Tokyo Dome.

"Math, Kaname?" He gently gave her a nudge, wanting to start moving closer to the bow of the ship. Thy were pulling into their disembarkation point now, small waves lapping against the side of the ship as it slowed down.

"_Yes,_ Sousuke." Kaname said. "Math." She looked around at the island. She almost let go of her griping altogether. The sight was so lovely, the open space so inviting. But, there would be time for all that later. "We're going to add up the score." She followed him as he joined the line to get of the boat.

"I didn't bring a calculator with me," Sousuke said, raising and lowering his tackle box. "And I doubt they have a computer we can use at the bait shop, or at the hotel." He shrugged. "Maybe someone will have an abacus." He began sweating some, having remembered something. There had only been one room available on the island near the best fishing spots, a small one with a single bed. He let out a sigh. Old habits would save him. He could sleep under the bed, of course. Kaname wasn't like Tessa, she wouldn't try to follow him under there, only to need hand-cuffing.

"I don't _need_ one," Kaname said. She tapped her temple with one finger. "I'm smarter than any runaway robot."

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke said. Now he had a good idea where things were headed. Well, Kaname might need this. It might be good therapy for her. For _him?_ No problem. No matter what ruckus she might eventually make, the fish in these waters wouldn't hear her. Just the same, he'd see if he could nip things in the bud, "The great thing about fishing on Hachijojima is that you can rent everything you need when you get here." He picked up his pace some, wanting to stretch his legs after the ten-hour trip. "The Hachijojima Fishing Club offers visiting anglers the chance to lease fishing gear for all kinds of fishing experiences, from off the shore to on-board a boat. Which means all you really need with you when you arrive is determination and an adventurous spirit."

"Oh," Kaname said, licking her lips. Her eyes looked dark. "I packed plenty of determination. Spirit, too. _You_ are in for an adventure."

"I-" Sousuke coughed. "Well, I didn't bring my own equipment, so trying to figure out new water may be a bit of a battle, especially water as challenging as the Pacific Ocean."

"Battle, Sousuke?" Kaname frowned. _"Really?_ Battle?" That was one word that she didn't want to hear on a cheerful excursion. Of course, her whole spiel wouldn't be all that cheerful; but, there is a price to pay, sometimes, being with Kaname Chidori. Losers and wimps need not apply. "Minus one."

"Kaname?" Sousuke shrugged when Kaname did not elucidate. He continued with his efforts to defuse the bomb, whatever it might be. He was wise enough not to vocalize that thought. "The beautiful thing about fishing in the ocean is that you never really know what you're going to hook. It could be a monster tuna or a small, feisty bonito. The sea's the limit. And the waters around Hachijojima are no exception when it comes to ocean diversity. Anglers who make the trek-"

"Funny you should mention Trek," Kaname said. "That's minus one, too. And we'll tack more on later." She didn't explain that, either.

"Kaname?" Sousuke pursed his lips. She was in the 'make you wait' mode. But, that was better than the 'make you bruise' one. "From the mainland we can expect to find horse mackerel, greater and yellowtail Amberjack, tuna, and bonito, among other species of seawater fish. No matter what kind of fish we might hook, they are all well worth the effort it takes you to catch them. All's fair when you're in love with fishing."

"In love-" Kaname's eyes looked distant for a moment. Then, they flashed again. "That's another minus one!"

Sousuke walked quietly for a few moments. He kept trying to catch a glimpse of Kaname's face, to see if there truly was a hurricane brewing, or if this was one of the squalls that blows over quickly, only to reveal a beauteous day. She gave no clues. In fact, seeing what he was doing, she turned her face away and said _"Hmmm-mm-mpf!"_ He began speaking again. "Once we've had our fill and caught our fish, we have a number of options open to us."

"Yes indeed," Kaname said. "We'll be getting to the numbers, soon enough." She'd wait until they found their private spot. Or until the urge to do her little rant took over. _"Hmmm._ Why wait. Minus one."

"That-" Sousuke squared up his shoulders, and then relaxed. Responding would only escalate the engagement. There were some battles it was better to retreat from, or avoid altogether. "First, we can let them go. Catch and release fishing is a growing trend among anglers who want to ensure that the youth of the nation can keep fishing the waters that we get to enjoy. The locals, along with the fish, are sure to show their appreciation."

"At least _someone_ will," Kaname said, swinging her bag up and back in a sweeping arc. "Minus ten."

"Only ten," Sousuke put a hand to his mouth, too late. He had just stepped on a tripwire, trying to stealthily enter an enemy base. "I mean… forget I said that…."

"Minus _o-n-e h-u-n-d-r-e-d_," Kaname drawled. She looked at Sousuke, waiting to say if he'd make another error.

Eh _hemmm-mm-m,"_ Sousuke cleared his throat. He needed to be more succinct and serene. "If we want to enjoy our freshly caught dinner, however, there are a few places where anglers like us can get fish cleaned and cooked. Eating what you've caught yourself is an experience that just can't be beat and makes the day spent fighting the sea seem even more rewarding."

"How much of a reward remains to be seen," Kaname remarked. "Since you'll probably smell like fish again…." There was a strong emphasis on the word 'again'. "Minus one."

After that, they walked in silence for a bit. First, they briefly stopped by their inn, to leave their luggage. Next, Sousuke led them to the General Fishing Center Asagiku to pick-up some mackerel and other live bait, along with the necessary fishing gear Sousuke had brought plenty of hooks, lures, and leaders with him. Finished there, they asked a local for a good tip, pressing some money in his hand as a thank you. Sousuke followed directions he had been given and eventually made it to a recent hot spot, at the end of a jetty near a local shrine. He began to set-up the rods and reels that they had rented when buying bait. He gave Kaname a quick explanation on the hefty salt-water gear. They both stood on a small concrete platform, just a couple of feet from very deep water.

"You've been awfully quiet for a while," Kaname noted. "Is that because you're trying to avoid losing more points?" She made a face when she needed to bait her hook. The poor mackerel just stared at her with fishy eyes. "Minus one."

"_Mmm-mm-m." _Sousauke clamped his lips tightly together. But, he couldn't help himself. When fired upon by the enemy, it was his natural response to fire back. "Before you toss your line out, there is something that I need to do, to make certain that we have enough for dinner. And, it might be nice to supply fresh fish to the kitchen at our hotel." He began rummaging in a backpack that he had brought with him. "You'll be amazed to find out just how great a fishing method grenades are." He tried not to grin. "I only brought four, so I have to time things just right, to reach the proper level. Thermite grenades use iron oxide as an oxidizing agent and they are able to function underwater and can be used by soldiers when their gear is submerged in lakes, rivers, and oceans. The AN-M14 TH3 incendiary hand grenade will make a fine depth charge. The added benefit is, the fish will float up already cooked."

"**Sousuke Sagara,"** Kaname said frantically_. "Don't you dare!"_

Sousuke just smiled for a moment. "Psych." He showed her the contents of his bag, Nothing more flammable than suntan lotion.

"Minus one hundred points!" Kaname said, almost losing grip on her fishing rod. "No… minus one thousand…."

"It's worth it," Sousuke claimed, having no idea what his penalty would eventually be. "How about another thousand."

"**Oooo-ooo-oo-o!"** Kaname made a face and began to take her fishing seriously. She was not about to take off more points when he asked her too! She watched him out of the corner of one eye, as he baited a hook and tossed it out away from hers.

As it turned out, Kaname had the first strike. The unseen fish pulled hard, but she didn't set the hook. She stepped too close to the edge, and found herself falling as she made effort not to let go of the rod. _"Ahhh-hh-h."_ She never hit water. A strong pair of arms surrounded her… cradled her… pulled her back from danger.

"You need to be careful," Sousuke admonished Kaname. He began to loosen his arms, and blinked rapidly when Kaname hugged those arms tighter to her for a moment, before letting go.

"Thank you Sousuke," Kaname said. "Because of that-" She didn't specify the save, the hug, or both. "I'll start you back at zero." She was silent for a while, as the two of them stood, comfortable in the cool breeze, breathing deeply, enjoying the salt-laden air. The setting was certainly relaxing. But, her mind… quite happy to be back in her own body… was not one to let go of things, just because the world seemed peachy at the moment. "And so it begins!"

"You've hooked one?" Sousuke asked. He placed his thumb just so after adjusting the drag, and made a strong sturdy cast, fourteen-pound flourocarbon line spinning nicely off of his Daiwa Millionaire Bay Casting Special reel. He stopped the spooling just before the bait hit the water, not wanting to risk any backlash.

"No," Kaname replied. "But. Some_one_ is on the hook." She sighed. She needed to do this. She needed to get things off of her chest, once and for all. She might not _ever_ have outer peace again. Inner peace, that was a must. "When you were first me, you took a helicopter ride. You told me they made jokes about you being me, and you didn't feel the need to show restraint. You used my elbow as a weapon. I still have faint bruising." She held her elbow up. "One point."

Sousuke had no defense.

"You didn't say anything in my defense," Kaname continued. "When Kurz suggested putting T-… another girl's mind in my body." She stuck her tongue out faster than a snake of a lizard. "You lose Ten points."

"I didn't say I wanted that," Sousuke said. "It was because Kurz said that Tessa wants me… and that I am supposed to be… ehhh… hot for your body."

"You said Tessa. That's one point off." She tossed her hair, hat held at her side. "And you said 'supposed'… ten points." She thought a moment. "You… meaning _I_… had to dance around with that sourpuss, Mardukas. I get the creeps just thinking of it," She shuddered. "Minus One point"

"But I also stood up for you," Sousuke protested. "When Mao wanted to take a picture of me… you… smoking a cigarette… and when she told me to go out and get fu-" He stopped abruptly.

"-" Kaname was shaken by that last bit. She smoothed her dress with one hand, and after a second found her voice. "That… well… I'll give you ten back."

"And Kurz said-" Sousuke was cut off.

"**Don't push it!"** Kaname didn't have two fingers free to put in her ears. There was no way in Hell that she needed to hear what Kurz Weber might have suggested!

"Push it?" Sousuke thought a moment. "Didn't _you _push something where it didn't belong?" When Kaname looked clueless he added: "My winkie's a key."

There was a noise clatter, as Kaname dropped her fishing gear, and got down on her knees to gather it back up again before it fell into the sea. At the same moment, Sousuke jerked his line abruptly, setting the hook. The reel had a quick return, so he brought the fish in relatively quickly, still needing some time to subdue the vital fish. The whole time, Kaname was slowly going from beet red to rose pink. She was basically back to normal when her fishing partner pulled a five kilogram Lesser Amberjack up to the platform.

"How many points for _this,"_ Sousuke asked proudly, holding his prize aloft?"

"None," Kaname said in a crusty voice. "No points for fish."

"Well," he asked slyly. "How many for my… winkie…."

"**Gah!"** Kaname almost swallowed her tongue. "Ten points back if you never mention it again!" Damn either Dr. Hfuhruhurr or Dr. Necessiter, whomever told Sousuke about that episode! They deserved their current assignments. "Let's talk about your tree climbing, instead. And your meeting my neighbor." She coughed. "Who now thinks that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. She left a large basket of appropriate foods at my door. And an unexpected visitor. Her cousin-" She shivered again, and then jerked hard on her line, but the fish got away. "Minus one and minus ten more." She turned and gave Sousuke a grave look. "Now we start getting to the _heavy _stuff!"

"Heavy stuff?" Sousuke scrambled to remember what happened next.

"Yes," Kaname said, the sound of doom trumpeted in her voice. "I found my Hammy all covered in Korean barbeque sauce." She clenched one hand. "He's a vegetarian. Do you know how many baths it took before I could get his hair clean? Minus one thousand!"

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke bowed his head in apology, but Kaname didn't rap it. "I have never had a hamster as a pet. On a kebob-" He stopped there. His early childhood meals need not be discussed.

"I-" Kaname shook her head. She pretended not to hear that last part. "And… I found Goldie swimming in water that looked like Cool Aid!" Kaname hunched her shoulders up, but then relaxed. "Because someone put Gummi Worms in his bowl."

"Well… they _were_ worms…" Sousuke swallowed hard. Kaname's face looked like an oni mask. "And they _had _been left out… right near the bowl…"

"So," Kaname said, cold as ice. "You're blaming _me?_ That ten points added to another thousand points off." She looked Sousuke straight in the eyes. "If that was what you fed them… what did you feed _me._ For your sake… I hope it wasn't that military stuff you eat sometimes…."

"I ate a field tested and very nutritional MRE," Sousuke replied.

"I see, " Kaname said quietly. In a similar low voice she said "One hundred more points off."

"Kaname?" Sousuke looked quizzical. "Your point scale seems arbitrary. In the military, imprecision can lead to-"

"One… million… points… off!" Kaname shook her rod at Sousuke. "I am the judge… the jury…." _*smack*_ She whacked Sousuke on the crown with the pole. "…And executioner." She sighed. "But, I am a generous judge. So, I will reduce your fine to one hundred." She frowned. Sousuke had a contemplative look. "What were you thinking?"

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke didn't want Kaname to be on a constant jag.

"Souuuu-uuu-uu-us-_kayyy-yy-y_…." Kaname had the 'She That Must Be Obeyed' look in her eye.

"I pictured Darth Vader saying 'Kaname is not as forgiving as I am'." Sousuke said.

"Oh… I see…." Kaname smiled. It was a Cheshire Cat smile. _"Star Wars?_ One hundred points off."

"It's a good thing that this is good therapy for you," Souuske muttered under his breath. "It should be more fun than going to see the Melida shrink."

"What was that?!" Kaname hadn't heard anything. That's what bothered her. Sousuke usually would blurt anything out. When he was super-quiet, it might be something less than complimentary. "Never mind. You went through my personals. You stole my magazines. You got into a street fight. A producer approached me, asking my permission to use my likeness in a new movie… 'Monks versus the blue-haired Demon'. The Monks are the good guys…." She counted in her head. "Minus one hundred and eleven points."

"The gang would have assailed your virtue," Sousuke said, keeping things as low key as possible. "But I stopped them,"

"You're right," Kaname said. "I'll give you one point back… and take away fifty, because you could have taken a bus or a cab! At night. As a beautiful young lady." She struck a pose. That pose collapsed and she hung her head. "Then… then you… then you called the submarine…." She tried to stay calm. "You talked to Tessa about… having your… having my period…." She gave him a piercing glance. "Like I want _that _shared with everybody!" She snapped her fingers. "Name a big number."

"Uhhh," Sousuke cocked his head and thought a moment. "Ten." He hoped that worked. He wasn't certain why. After all, what could all the numbers mean?

"Ten," Kaname said and chuckled. "Ten he says. Probably because that's as high as he can count on his fingers. But I'm really disappointed. He forgot his toes." Her voice turned sharp. "One hundred thousand points off. No. That would make my grievances seem like a joke, like some kind of game." Her eyes looked like pools of darkness. "This… is… no… game…. Let's make it one hundred off."

"I dodged a bullet there," Sousuke said, immediately regretting his choice of words.

Kaname didn't penalize him for that. She had more than enough left on her plate. On a restaurant full of plates. And then some! She rubbed her forehead. "You slipped on some soap… and you left a goose egg on my forehead…."

"It proved very instrumental," Sousuke hated the sound of his voice, it was as if he were pleading with the headsman. "When you came back to school as yourself… everything before that was written off and exonerated because of supposed brain injury."

"And… there… was… so… much… to… write off…" Kaname said. _"Wasn't_ there?

"Wellll-lll-ll-l-" Sousuke tossed out another long cast. He forgot to thumb the reel. Luckily, there was only a small tangle of line that he easily fixed. Kaname had forgotten to take off more points. He probably wouldn't win points by telling her, so he kept quiet. That was a small miracle.

The irate girl was doing this all from memory. She had a lot of grievances, and hadn't even bothered to write them down. Then again, they were engraved into her brain. "And that woman… what did you say her name was… the building's biggest gossip…"

"Miss Iwasaki," Sousuke offered.

"Yes," Kaname said. "Her. She saw _me_… coming out of _your_… apartment early in the morning. She then hoped that… we… were… using condoms… have I got that right?"

"Affirmative," Sousuke said.

"I see," Kaname said saccharine sweet. **"THAT'S ANOTHER THOUSAND OFF!"**

"Would it have been better if she thought we were irresponsible." Sousuke cringed. Stupid mental moral editor. Why did it usurp his tongue.

"Ah hah hah hah hah hah." Kaname had another bite, but she didn't even bother to take action. "Talking about being irresponsible. Being weird and dangerous. Being highly visible in my body. No. I'm overreacting. _Every_body probably uses a potato cannon to get a kitten out of a tree."

"Ummm," Sousuke said. "The cat was fine."

"And I was on the news." Kaname griped. "But wait… there's more… I'm on T-shirts now. I saw one at the mall with Kyouko. It had my face on Rambo's body, holding a potato gun. It read 'Cat-bo: First Spud part 2."

"Was it a good likeness?" Sousuke wisely did not say that he might buy one as a souvenir.

"**Ooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-o!"** Kaname jerked her line, and inadvertently set the hook on another hit. _"What?_ Sousuke! Help me!"

"Stay calm, Kaname." Sousuke stood behind her. He felt her melt back against him, and held his breath. "Here… let me show you… reel it in strongly and continuously… until the fish comes close on its own… then reel it in even faster." He expertly worked the Daiwa TD-X 2500iA spinning reel. "Let it go out some if you think it might escape or break the line." He showed her how to do that, too.

Kaname finished the process. She proudly held up a thirty-inch fish. "What is this one?" She asked. "Oh. I see, an Eastern Pacific Bonito," she added, after being told. "Ten points for me."

"You said no points for fish," Sousuke reminded Kaname.

"No points to _you_ for fish," Kaname said matter-of-factly. "And I hadn't finished with the potato stuff. People have been approaching me on the street, asking me to sign their spuds!" She stamped a foot. "Minus one hundred points." She frowned. "Some creep from Amalgam can approach me like that." She didn't want to think about being Whispered today, not at such an idyllic place.

"There has only been one case of kidnap by tuber," Sousuke said. In Paraguay, 1987-"

"_**SOUSUKE!"**_ Kaname looked around. Happily, they were the only toe out on that platform. "Ahem. You stole _another_ bicycle. You put me near the top of that psycho police woman's list. You got me photographed riding the bike… in a skirt… showing my panties…" She took a deep breath and let it out. "You led a police car down a pedestrian lane. There were flags, old women, furniture, Scouts, and food flying everywhere. A large Bull truck ended up in a small expensive China shop. And a very expensive squad car and an even more expensive train were damaged." She ran through mental calculations while flicking her fingers. "My my my. One thousand one hundred eleven points off."

"I couldn't let her delay me…." Sousuke said. "Or delay _you_, as 'you' would have been tardy and sent to see the Principal… if they let 'you' in school at all. Then all of it would have been for nothing."

"You forgot to say 'If it pleases the court', Sousuke." Kaname made a face. "It does _not _please the court. One more point." She thought a moment. "What's next? Let's see… of course… no one would ever forget the speech I gave at the weekly assembly, _right?_ The one where you told everyone about my brain damage. The one where you compared life to a battleground. Yes… they will never take our freedom… huh." She was quiet a moment, trying to chase away a memory. "When I came back to school, there was a line of people waiting outside of my locker. They had Mel Gibson posters they wanted signed. That's worse than potatoes! One thousand points off for all of it." She held her hat down again when a strong gust threatened to steal it. "We'll get to Mr. Ciocio later. I am so glad that you plan to keep a low profile while in my body was such a success. But wait, we've barely scratched the surface." Her hand looked more like the paw the way that she held it. A claw-filled paw.

"Does this work both ways?" Sousuke asked.

"What do you mean, Sousuke." Kaname replied.

"Well, _you_ were supposed to be _me."_ Sousuke said. "But not only did you get all jealous, according to Dr. Hfuhruhurr…" Oops. He probably shouldn't have phrased things that way. "But you got the attention of all of those girls." Oops again. Probably should have avoided the subject altogether. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. "You're not the only one who's been asked to sign things. Someone took a photo shot of me and has been selling blow ups. I've also been asked to sign breasts and bottoms… and… uhhh-hh-h… other anatomical regions. I did _not,_ naturally. Oh. And a woman from Playgirl magazine approached me. I can be a center spread, if I want. As long as I'm naked, I can hold as many weapons as I like."

"That was sure a lot of words, mister." Kaname noticed. Her eyes caught fire, looking like small fireballs. "And a lot of points off."

"But-" Sousuke was right. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"Minus one thousand points," Kaname grumped. "Big idiot. Who's jealous. One hundred more points."

Sousuke slid another flapping mackerel onto his hook. He stood tall, braced himself, and unleashed a monster cast. He nodded his head. That Daiwa reel had been a real beauty back in the day. This one was beaten up from long years of service… but an old soldier can be a particularly dangerous one.

"Yes," Kaname said. "Let's go for a bonus. Who can forget 'mum's the word'? Subtract one more point." She reeled her hook in to see if the bait was still there. It was. "There's something that _shouldn't_ be mum, right? Something to do with Atsunobu."

"Ah" Sousuke said. "I understand. I have _not_ told any of the other students about his roommate, the Russian stripper named Natalia."

"-" Kaname looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. Then her customary feisty spirit returned as her face pinked up. "Not _that!_ Why would you even think of her? Minus one point!" She let out her breath. "The list that he dictated to Ren. The list with the names of people that behaved badly in homeroom. The one he said shouldn't fall into your hands. Did you get it? Have you taught the transgressors about the evils of their deeds?"

"Negative," Sousuke said firmly.

"And why _not?"_ Kaname asked. "Don't you want to protect me? Protect the honor of our school? And the reputation of our overworked teachers?"

"Kaname," Sousuke replied. "Revenge is not protection… its retribution…." He stopped reeling in his line. "Also… His Excellency will handle things in a way that he sees fit… subtly, as usual… to the benefit of everyone in the school."

"I see," Kaname said. She did see, and she agreed. Nonetheless. "Minus ten. You still should have tried to get the list… with his permission…." She frowned as the wind slapped her in the face with her own hair. She had to spit out a mouthful. That made her remember something else on her list. "Do you think my hair is beautiful, Sousuke?"

"Yes," Sousuke answered. His military mind running through numerous scenarios, he had no doubt what the next complaint would be. He watched as Kaname smiled at first, but then put that stern look on again.

"But you must have thought I'd look better with black hair," Kaname harrumphed. "So I would look more like your generic action manga girls."

"Negative!" Sousuke said. "I was… it…." He ran down. He had been in a bad state of mind, and that was a sin for an operative. It hadn't been nearly as bad as Hong Kong, but it still made him question his own abilities. "I failed."

"Yes you did," Kaname said, well informed of his actions, but still not clued into his inner state at that time. She wanted to know that too, some day, didn't she? That, and the way his mind was working today. Or were those things that were best left untold? "Minus one thousand, but with five hundred credit, since you cleaned my hair off later." She thought a moment more, making another mental connection. "And… in all that… you never had my high school picture taken!"

Sousuke tossed his line very far this time, wanting it to land in an area with strong current. "If I had it taken as you," he said in his defense, even though it was merely logic after the fact. "They would have known it _was_ you… at least in body. Then, they would have kidnapped me, in your body."

Kaname thought a moment. She nodded her head and said nothing more on the subject. Her list was too long to bog down on any given point. "It's time to revisit Math class. We already covered Math day. And I won't chide you for coming to my defense. That was sweet. Because of that, your deductions will be smaller." Her smile vanished. The oni look was back. "But let me get this straight. You wired chairs with electricity. You set off explosions with skunk scent. And you caused people to wet themselves in class." She paused. "One thou-… one hundred points."

"You forgot the brown note." Sousuke blurted that out, fortunate that he hadn't been more graphic."

"Ah yes," Kaname said. " How could I have forgotten _that?_ Thank you so very much for bringing that image up!" She was hyperventilating. "Make that one thousand!" Thinking of the subject made her think of toilets, which naturally led to plungers. "And… Mr. Civil Servant… when you thought that your fellow student needed CPR… what did you do….?"

"I did not want to put your lips on the boy…" Kaname eyed him like a hawk, as if she were trying to divine his motivation for that decision. "So… searching for a life-saving solution… I improvised with the weapon… I mean tool… at hand. He lived to fight… learn… another day."

"A plunger, Sousuke. Call it by its name." Kaname tossed her bait out as far as she could manage. "Did you clean that plunger first, or did you think the boy who had fainted from the odor you so kindly caused was actually dying, so you had to be in an absolute rush?"

"Uhhh." Sousuke was saved from further answering by a strike. He set the hook, fought a relatively brief fight, and reeled in a nice-sized Pacific Saury. "Good eating," he said.

"Congratulations," Kaname said flatly. Flatly, for good reason. First, he was ahead in catch count. Second, she was still locked on target. "It seems that you were very fond of that plunger. Mr. Ciocio, probably not so much. I don't even want to say what you did with that… tool." She coughed. "That was after you put my life in great danger, by sitting alone with a serial killer!"

"But… well… I did not _know _that. He was a school official. He _ordered_ me to visit." Sousuke looked like he was being charged with dereliction of duty. "And… through my actions… your actions according to the news team… the man's true crimes were discovered. We may have saved lives!"

"Very noble, Sousuke." Kaname agreed. "But… you reminded me… my photograph was shown on another news channel. My unwanted fan club keeps growing. And it's like _I'm_ the one at a fish market…" She stared down at the fish they had caught. "Why don't you advertise." She spoke in a seep gruff voice. "Today's special… Kaname Chidori… a fresh caught Whispered girl… just right for your pot… or your experiment table!" She shivered again, this time from salt spray and not anger. "Minus one hundred points."

Sousuke was about to complain, but he stopped. A large school of Japanese flying fish passed by, not too far from their position. They almost looked like small flying silver birds, or a new class of autonomous skimming drones. Breathtaking, either way. He put his pole down for a moment.

***doink***

That sound had Kaname narrowing her eyes. But, it was time to move onto yet another grievance. "Mizuki told me something you said. You told Tsubaki that you were a part of me,and that he wouldn't never be part of me. How do you think people took _that_ one, soldier?"

"Uhhh." Sousuke pulled at his lower lip, and spat. His finger tasted of mackerel.

"We'll adjust the score later," Kaname considered. "Since the rumors reached much greater levels later on in your adventures." She looked really perturbed now. She let yet another strike go without any response. "We still have the yanki to discuss. I have had my fill of guns and bombs. But, thanks to you, I learned that the human body can be explosive too… and can fire off projectiles of its own…." Her words were obviously a play on 'projectile' vomiting. "I still think some of our classmates are suffering PTSD from that whole SNAFU." Damn. That was a military term. "I should take points off for everyone struck by that barrage of barf. But I won't. Do you know why?"

"Kaname?" Sousuke looked as if he had no idea.

"You acted for my benefit again," Kaname said quietly. "To defend my mother." She smiled, thinking of his kindness, and also picturing a moment spent with her mother. "For that… positive one thousand points." Her cheeks dimpled slightly. "Thank you, Sousuke."

"-" Sousuke said nothing. He thought briefly, that the smile he saw was even more captivating than the Flying fish. His look was not lost on Kaname. But, it wasn't enough to stop her, not by a long shot.

"It was very amusing," Kaname began. "Hearing how… I… entertained the class with all of those Reader's Digests funnies… taken from a magazine that someone filched…." She had already been asked by a number of people if she knew any more jokes. Daily. Ever since her return. "But the crowning glory was another assignment for me to do. What was it again? Of course. It's about the commercialization of fairy tales and folklore. The specific comparison is between the Disney movie 'Pinnochio', and the original children's novel 'The Adventures of Pinocchio' written in 1883 by Italian writer Carlo Collodi. And Miss Eri was kind enough to give me a double slot. Wonderful." She paused. She would wait to assign a value. There was more. "Then, you made me an unknown co-conspirator to gruesome injury, when you told the janitor about the perpetrators. But, your reputation later almost made me a co-_**victim**_ to gruesome injury. Because of things that you had dome, the King of Fear and his flunkies decided to pay you back… when_ I_ was _you!"_ She stomped a foot again. "And… I… haven't… even… gotten… to… the… gift… that… keeps… on… giving…."

"Venereal disease?" Sousuike was perplexed. "_I _never-" His eyes went wide. "Did _you-"_

"**Of course not!"** Kaname shouted. "Minus ten thousand points for thinking that. Jeee-ee-ez! Sousuke!" She calmed herself down. "Mascots. I was talking mascots. You brought Bonta-kun out and fought a big pink bear… during a telethon… for Cancer organizations that I invited! You later had a near naked me fight a giant pair of… you know…." She looked as if she felt dirty. "Then, your actions had a whole bunch of mascots… while being filmed… fight each other brutally… while our clashing classmates were also captured by the camera. My softball team… all of the sports teams involved… which means all that exist… and most of the clubs… have been suspended from all activities for _a month_. It would have been longer, if the whole student body hadn't been traumatized by an exploding tree and a knock down drag out A.S. battle!"

"That…." Sousuke felt a shadow fall over his soul. That battle and all of its subsequent ripples had been his doing, in effect. Mithril didn't know that. He had been deemed a great asset, after taking down the Chazaqiel, and having stopped a dangerously vain rogue Arm Slave pilot. "I-" The subject of mascots weighed heavy there, too. Three died in battle. They volunteered, but there would have been no need for that, had there been no battle.

Kaname let the points slide. She was silent for a while, knowing what Sousuke must be feeling.

"Fish on." Sousuke spoke without excitement, his words meaning there was a fish on the line. He sounded like a heavily medicated Jeremy Wade, Suffolk-born British host, biologist, adventurer and angler extreme from the 'River Monsters' television show. Luckily, the action at hand brushed layer and layer of pain away, as he began to feel a great rush. This was a big one. A _really_ big one. The fight took some time, but he was rewarded mightily in the end. "It's a small one, as far as they go." But, the fish weighed more than he did. "Bluefin tuna."

"How come you can catch something like that?" Kaname looked envious. Her arms would have fallen off fighting that monster, but her pride would have glued them back on.

"I'm a Specialist," Sousuke claimed, his spirit returning in full. He looked at the fish they had caught. That was more than they could easily transport. Everything hence would be catch and release. He would be very welcome at the inn just the same. Bonito, saury, and tuna were among many people's favorite eating fish.

"Yes." Kaname said. "Or so I've _heard_… again and again and again…." She made a grimace. "And everything can be a weapon to you. A chair, for example." She was referring to one that he had thrown at a rude boy, following Kyouko's request. "But let's not stop there. You did a good number on a creepy Spanish guy… after dancing with him… while you… I… made myself out to be a great Ballroom dancer. Minus three hundred points." She paused. She knew the next point was a very sore point with Sousuke. But, she was a stickler for finishing what she started. "Then… you and the class quoted 'Zoolander'… thank you _so_ very much… and pissed the photo guy off. But… he wasn't just a photo guy… he was an Amalgam agent."

"I didn't-" Sousuke would have been truthful saying 'Of course I couldn't know that'. But, he had suspected something about the man at some point. "Things happened, anyway. Because of me."

"**Snap out of it!"** Kaname said forcefully. "How could you _possibly_ know what would happen? Yes, you are ultimately responsible. But, you did nothing wrong." She froze, and as she was wont to do, changed mental hats. She took of the nurse's hat, and put on the gangster's hat. "I misspoke. You_ did_ do something wrong. You mentioned my sister's name. That deflected any knowledge of _me_… but did you think that somehow you might be putting my little sister… and possibly my father… in danger?!"

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke just blinked rapidly. He hadn't worried about that at all. When you shoot a bad guy in the crowd, you can't worry about every spectator as an individuals. You do your best to take down a big threat, and give thought to the safety of the entire crowd as a whole.

"Minus… ten thousand… points…." Kaname bit off each word. "Oh… how could I forget that?! The date. You accepted a date. For _me."_ Her fury wasn't dying down. It looked as if the reactor was headed for meltdown. "Thank you for deciding who _I _should date." The way she said that, it almost sounded as if she did want to go on a date with someone. "Minus ten thousand more." In a sarcastic voice she said "I am truly amazed. All this. Done by one man. Without even trying. I'm impressed." She was not. She was most definitely _not._

Sousuke had been Kaname in body. And he had rubbed his mind up against a portion of hers, while residing in her brain. As a result, he was beginning to see the effects of his actions… especially his actions _in toto_… on Kaname. No, on the school as a whole. Why stop there… on the world around him. But, was there really anything he could do, other than return to Da Danaan, never to come back to Tokyo?

"You better not be thinking in that Sousuke brain of yours…" Kaname shook her pole at him, mackerel and hook swinging close to his face, and then hers. "…'I have to leave school forever to make Kaname happy'!" In a softer voice she stated: "That wouldn't make me happy, you know…."

"I see," Sousuke said, somehow feeling touched. That wouldn't make him happy, either.

_Quite the opposite._

"Another thing that shouldn't make me happy at all-" Kaname started off like she was about to smack Sousuke on the head again. "But… well… somehow does…." Now, it looked like she could give him a peck on the cheek. "You flipped Satomi. And then, you stuck the toilet brush… you know where. That was wrong. So… minus one tenth of a point." Her eyes flashed again. "But then, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions,_ right_ mister?"

"Kaname?" Sousuke gathered that she was no longer talking about the brush in the girl's anus.

"Before I get to that, there's another issue." Kaname rested the pole against her body and cracked her knuckles. "In the shower room, there were a lot of naked girls, were there not?"

"I-" Sousuke swallowed hard. He began sweating, and not from the heat. "Affirmative."

"Did you cover your eyes?" Kaname asked. When Sousuke said 'No', she said: "Were you thinking 'I'm a boy, but they don't know it. I can stand here as long as I want, looking at them as much as a boy might want?' Well,_ were_ you Sousuke?"

"U-h-h-h-h-h." Sousuke began sweating even more. That 'Uhhh' didn't come out right. He was a swimmer, bleeding after being pushed by the current against razor sharp coral. Kaname was a circling shark. "Affirmative."

"I see," Kaname said, partially filled with righteous anger. But, there was a part of her that thought: it's nice to know that he likes girls. "And then when I was naked… and you gals discovered that boys were spying on the room… you tossed a couple of towels on and give chase… didn't you?" After his 'yes', she continued. "Lucky me. My celebrity grew even more. Everyone and his perverted uncle got pictures of me raining justice on the boys… and fighting a giant… hairy... scrotum!" She was close to shouting again. "Before I blew him up like a water balloon, and washed the floors of the entire school!"

"It was clean water," Sousuke mentioned by habit.

"Minus ten thousand points!" Kaname snapped. She tossed her line back out, having forgotten to bait the hook. "If you weren't defending the girls from those peeping toms… or my honor from that sick mascot… it would have been doubled." She really did enjoy the way that Sousuke stood up for the helpless. Especially, how he stood up for _her._

Sousuke reeled yet another fish in, causing Kaname to sniff and lift her nose in the air. At least he didn't brag when he jerked too hard at the end, and the large colorful wrasse practically leaped from the water and onto the platform. He removed the hook and sent the beautiful fish back to the briny deep. He looked up at the sky, and then down at his watch. "It's getting to be about time," he announced. "We should gather up our fish and head for the inn."

Kaname agreed to stay with the fish, alone, while Sousuke headed back to the shop. There should be no danger out here, at this time. She churned her internal thoughts, and chummed the water for her mental sharks. The fires in her mind were still stoked when Sousuke arrived after returning their fishing gear. He brought along a large cart with him, one that he could leave at their destination. After he threw the fish in, he began pushing it off of the platform and along the long jetty. Kaname walked by his side.

Eventually, they found themselves walking on a large outside area, which took the place of a lawn, or the ubiquitous sand. The expanse was made up of large cement tiles, and had grass growing up between those tiles. Metal railings spotted the area, a place to tie up bicycles. Beyond that were two rows of short palms trees. Partially obstructed from view, a blockish two story inn stood, a rather nondescript hotel. It was peach-colored, with pea-green awnings. Yes, the word 'plain' would be doing it too much justice. But, it was a place to leave their stuff, a place to wash up, a place to dine, and a place to stay the night. The sign outside said 'Seadive Guest House.'

"Ah," a kindly woman at a dusty front desk said as he walked up to her. "Mister Sagara…good to see you again." She looked at Kaname. "And bride? This your honeymoon?" She grinned a nearly toothless grin when she saw the girl turn a bright salmon. That color was appropriate, seeing that the young man offered her fish for the kitchen. "Such a thoughtful young man. You're a lucky girl, Miss-"

"Kaname," Kaname said. "Kaname Chidori." She felt an urge to deny being Sousuke's wife, but bit her tongue.

"Be sure you are a good bride," the woman said. "You should learn to cook for your husband. Would you like to help make yours and his dinner, tonight?"

"Well-" Kaname didn't see how she could deny the woman's request. They were paying for a room, but the dinner would be no cost, even though the inn would supply cooks, pots, spices, and whatnot.

"We _both _will," Sousuke put in. "We work best as a team. I will do the knife work." That was the dirtiest job, the cleaning. And it was also the most precise and import part, the fileting. He wondered why Kaname tensed up when he mentioned knifework. It wasn't in a military context.

"Well, let me get someone to bring the fish in," the woman said, ringing a small brass bet. "And I'll get the two of you matching aprons and gloves."

While the woman was gone, Kaname went from blushing bride to nagging housewife in the blink of an eye. "We'll get to Home Ec soon enough." That's what the mention of knives had brought to mind. "First, there is the small matter of Japanese History." She looked curious for a moment. "On a lark, let me know what answers you put down on the test paper before it got eaten."

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sosusuke didn't see how that could possibly matter, but was wise enough not to say so. "You see…." This couldn't possibly go well. "… I wrote down basic facts about the most common Arm Slaves."

"I see," Kaname said, smiling and nodding her head. "Arm Slaves. I should have guessed." Her eyes flashed. Her hands clenched. "What if the test hadn't gotten eaten. What _then,_ Sousuke."

"You would have gotten a 50," Sousuke replied. That was the minimum grade that Mr. Watsugi gave on pop quizzes. "It would have been a 0, if I didn't take the test, or left it blank."

"**Oooo-ooo-oo-o!"** Kaname winced. She'd bitten her tongue. Sousuke would take the silent blame for _that,_ too. "You could have tried to answer the questions for real! You couldn't have done worse than 50!"

"I-" Sousuke frowned. "I made an assumption. I know. You need not say it. When I assume, I make an ass out of 'u' and 'me'."

"No," Sousuke. "In that case you would have made an ass out of me alone. Minus one thousand. But that isn't the best part, _right?_ That would be Dog Day Afternoon." She wasn't referring to the Al Pacino film of the same name. "People got barked at. People got licked. People got covered with hair." She blurted out: "People almost got… humped. All because of your ninja juice." She stuck out her tongue. "As Mari told me… I looked like a yeti when things were done."

"More like the Hibagon," Sousuke opined. He swallowed hard. It had just jumped off of his tongue."

"Oh. That's alright then," Kaname said. "Not a yeti. Just the Hibagon." She shook a fist at Sousuke. "Slavered with dog saliva. Covered with canine hair. Yuck! The only thing saving you, mister, is the fact that you broke the date with that cowardly creep! One thousand points off." She quickly said "Yes, I _love you_ times one thousand," wondering just what the old woman had heard on her return.

"How sweet," the old lady said, handing out the garments. After that, she led them, to a small but well-equipped kitchen, with old but functioning tables and appliances. The prep work went well, the cooking went quick, and the meal was sublime. Afterwards, the two settled into their room a bit, checking to make certain that the luggage they had left at the counter earlier in the day had been delivered there. It had.

The room was small, with white unadorned walls, small hand-made wooden desk and chair, a tiny bed covered with a red fleece cover, and a television set that looked like it was manufactured in the 60s. The room window was wall length and height, and had a worn tan curtain with a dirty white pull-string.

There was still sunlight left, and a beautiful sunset should be happening within the hour. Sousuke and Kaname decided to make the four minute walk necessary, and visited the black-sand Sokodo Beach. They had changed into bathing suits, mostly because there previous clothing smelled of sweat and fish.

They soon found themselves at the beach, a lovely curved expanse, quiet, with a magnificent view of distant rolling hills, and pleasant looking beach communities.

"Uhhh-hh-h," Sousuke began, unprompted. "You look…." He coughed. Why was this difficult? He had actually been appreciative of Kaname's beauty. That was a victory in itself. Was it because of his time in her body? Or was he finally blossoming, after spending so much of his life dead on the vine? "You look…"

"_How_ do I look," Kaname asked, shocked. She was wearing a simple blue one-piece with small ruffles, not a white bikini this time.

"Beautiful," Sousuke said, the word bursting forth. He felt very sheepish, somehow. That was unacceptable for a Specialist! "Even better than in a kimono."

"Oh." Kaname turned pink. She smiled, and couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you." She had been about to resume her litany of slights, but waited for a while. She was hoping that Sousuke would take her hand, but he didn't. One step at a time, girl. One step at a time.

_Some things should not be rushed._

The two passed a few couples as they walked, but for the most part, they had larges stretches of beach all to themselves. There were no life guards, but they still chose to wade out into the gentle waves, waist deep. It was there that Kaname resumed her tally. "So… I am thinking that we are safe from Lethal Autonomous Weapons here…' She began.

"I believe so," Sousuke replied. "As I told you before, there are some that operate on or in water, and-" He knew what she was about to recount.

"Too bad we can't same say the same thing for our school," Kaname said. "And especially… our band…."

"That-" Sousuke had no defense. He had gone overboard, building Al Junior.

"Because they wore red sashes," Kaname said. "And because the men you told me about… the ones you almost took out with the stolen bicycle… wore red sashes." She splashed Sousuke with a large wave of water. _"Honestly!_ They were mourners, not yakusa! And the stricken students missed the All-Japan Band Competition. They worked so hard for that!" She splashed him again. "Ten thousand points off."

"Mithril _did _donate anonymous funds to the school," Sousuke remarked. "That bought a whole new set of instruments." He did not mention that the organization also paid for initial psychiatric sessions for a number of band members.

Kaname ignored that information. "In between interruptions from an over-zealous robot," she said. "You entertained Home Economics class with your… my… amazing knife skills." She frowned again. "After you made me seem like some kind of a weirdo, talking about cooking and survival skills. You-" She stopped for a moment. "Wow. So beautiful." A sea turtle was swimming not to far out from the two of them. Kaname thought about swimming beside it under the water; but, she didn't want to get her hair wet. This really _was _a remarkable island. She'd like to return some day and go snorkeling. "You frightened Satomi out of a year of her life… and you got some of the other students worked into a frenzy. _Plus_ one tenth of a point for the one, minus one hundred for the other. No. Make that minus one thousand. Some boys are calling me 'Knives,' now. From that 'Million Knives' character in the anime you made me watch."

"Trigun," Sousuke said. He remembered Kaname calling him the Humanoid Typhoon on any number of occasions.

"Yes," Kaname said. _"That_ one. The one where the hero was an evolved plant. Minus ten just for that." She shook her head. She looked at Sousuke expectantly. Was he going to complain, since he enjoyed that show so much? No. He remained silent, just looking at her. "You killed a rat with a taser bullet. You took _my_ body to fight _your_ robot. You did the dance off thing from 'Guardians of the Galaxy', and even used the turd blossom line." She hung her head. "And then you went all _Star Trek_ on him. Does that about sum things up?"

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied.

"Well then," Kaname said. "Minus fifty thousand points." She smiled when Sousuke's eyes bulged. She was the Queen. He was just her Jester. It was best that he realized that. He was lucky she didn't say 'Off with his head!' She splashed him again and again in preparation for the next part. She should probably dunk him, too… and fill his pants full of sand… and maybe a big crab. "What would you think of a girl who quickly quaffed a big bottle of soda and let out a belch that would frighten Godzilla away?" Sousuke's recounting of his actions had been phenomenally detailed. "Never mind. I have bigger fish to fry." She paused, enjoying her turn of phrase, her belly still pleasantly full from supper.

"Ummm." Sousuke had a sinking suspicion about what was coming. He though about playing submarine… and swimming away unseen. But, Kaname no doubt would soon have torpedo lock. She wouldn't stop until he was sitting powerless on the ocean floor.

"It was bad enough that you cause a number of wagging tongues to start a rumor that I was pregnant…" Kaname said. "… And to make it a big game, to guess who the father might be…." She splashed Sousuke again. "But then, _s-h-e_ appeared."

"Tessa," Sousue mouthed.

"Yes, Sousuke." Kaname brought both hands down forcefully. Water shot high in the air, landing smack dab on the top of her head. That did not make things better, of course. "The girl who asked if you had ever thought about lifting up a skirt… who asked if you prefer smooth or ribbed condoms… who asked if you wanted to know whether she was a virgin… whether you pictured her naked… what… you… thought… your… children… with... her...would… look like." She stared Sousuke down. "Those are questions we can get into, later. I shouldn't forget her invitation back to the onsen… where they now have mixed bathing…." Her current eruption was getting closer. "And then, you pose for a sex-ed poster with Comu-chan, the giant pink condom. That poster will go all over Japan. With my belly swollen by all that gas!" She calmed herself down, briefly. "Minus one hundred thousand points."

Not for the first time, Sousuke wondered what all the deduction of points meant. The number was growing by leaps and bounds.

"But it gets better, in some ways, _right?"_ Kaname grinned. The shark from 'Jaws' was nothing but a guppy, by comparison. "You were listening when darling Tessa and the other girls were talking about… you know… sex!" She splashed Sousuke again, but from a distance. She felt a little uncomfortable then, looking down and seeing that the bathing suit didn't completely hide the prominence of her nipples. She bent her knees, keeping only her head above water. "And Tessa said 'My birthday comes up in a few months, and I really wish we could do something. You know, like dinner. Or dancing. Or maybe a trip on a cruise ship.' You better never think about doing _anything _with that girl on a cruise ship!" She almost forgot the deduction. "One hundred thousand points off."

Sousuke swam under the water for a moment. When he came back up, he got a big splash of water in the face.

"**You pervert!"** Kaname said. "You better _not_ have been staring at my n-" She stopped just in time.

"Your n-" Sousuke asked. He held up something that he had retrieved after stepping on it. It was a small piece of coral.

"N-" Kaname swallowed. "Never mind." They swam a bit after that, and then got into a more playful exchange of splashing. At one point, an unexpectedly large wave pushed Kaname against Sousuke's back. She closed her eyes and hugged him some, pretending that she had grabbed hold to keep from going under and getting her hair all wet. Sousuke for his part, felt something against his back that had him try to think priestly thoughts. The lower part of his body was more devilish. Fortunately he was facing away from Kaname.

His body's reaction had Sousuke thinking thoughts that he chased away, the same way that their walking in the water scared off darting schools of small fish. When he stood watching the sunset with Kaname a short while later, he thought tamer thoughts that had him wondering what his future might hold. He also wondered what Kaname must be thinking. She'd been silent for a good while. In time, it became too dark to swim safely, so the two headed back inside to clean off and get ready for the night. Kaname used the shower and soaking tub first. When she was done, and after a family of eight slipped in after her, Sousuke took his turn. He came back dressed in an olive drab T-shirt and a pair of camouflage pants. Awaiting his return, Kaname was wearing a T-shirt with Bonta-kun, and a pair of pink shorts.

Wanting to enjoy the pleasant together time, Kaname kept her lips zippered until the movie they watched, a color film they could see only in black and white, reached the sped-up end-credits. The movie was 'When Harry Met Sally.' Early on, she took her hairbrush out of her luggage and began brushing her hair. _"Owww-ww-w,"_ she said at one point. "My arms hurt so much, after that fishing." The way she hung her head after saying that touched Sousuke to the quick. "Ow... ow ow... ow _ow **ow**_..." She grimaced because of muscle pains.

"Here," Sousuke held out his hand. "_I_ can brush it for you." He opened and closed his hand a number of times before Kaname dropped the brush into his grip.

"I can't believe that a boy... especially a Specialist... would want to do a girl's hair." She made a face. "I don't know if I really _want_ a boy to do that. What can a boy know about a girl's hair." She was being her usual contrary self. She was truly touched, and not a small bit intrigued. What might this simple and caring human act portend?

"I doubt that you have forgotten," Sousuke said. "And I have no reason to believe that you truly suffer from traumatic brain injury. So you should know that I can do your hair as me now..." He looked her directly in the eyes, noticing how large and moist they seemed. "...Because I have done it as _you_ before." He looked away briefly, fearing that he might fall into those eyes forever. "Besides... it's a matter of trust, is it not. I trusted you to cut my hair, at a time when I would trust no one else." He added. "Back then, you had no experience with sharp scissors perilously close to a seated soldier's ears. You had only played around with Kyouko's hair."

"Yes," Kaname said. "Of _course_ I remember." She smiled a wicked smile. "You were so very... _cute_... when you were sleeping." She knew that word would cause Sousuke make a face. He did. "Okay. I'll trust you. But... if you pull my hair even once... it will be a gazillion points!"

Sousuke stood up from his own chair and walked over behind Kaname's. He ran a hand through her hair a couple of times, checking for tangles, finding none. It was odd, doing things from this perspective, after having done the same thing while in her body. "Commencing operations now," he said, moving the brush carefully and adeptly.

"Don't make it sound like you're starting up an A.S.," Kaname said. "Or getting ready to attack a pill box or machine gun nest." She harumphed.

"Understood," Sousuke complied. He began brushing Kaname's hair, as they both watched the movie in silence. His brush strokes were perfect, and came in metronomic frequency. Kaname closed her eyes, only listening to the movie for a while, and that only in spurts. She smiled, feeling a type of pleasure that she'd never felt before. This was Sousuke touching her, not a hairdresser. This was him sharing something with her. Something personal. Almost sensual.

Kaname stood up, turned about, and sat down facing Souske, so he could reach things from a different angle. For her, it was no big thing. For Sousuke. it brought into view two big things. As Kaname leaned forward, her shirt tented out at the collar. He had an unobstructed view of her cleavage, much the way that he had had when she had cut his hair that day.

"You..." Sousuke brushed at random intervals, and different speeds. His eyes were very large. A sweat drop formed at his temple, followed by two more. He forced himself to stare at the hair he was brushing; nonetheless, that enticing part of Kaname's chest seemed to be the magnet, and his eyes the steel. He felt craven, sneaking peaks the way that he did. "This-" He almost fumbled the brush. He would not be like the anime characters who always screamed and stepped way from the situation. Right? He certainly wouldn't pull a Kurz Weber!

It certainly didn't help when a certain iconic scene came on, one that featured the two title characters having lunch at Katz's Delicatessen in Manhattan. That couple were arguing about a man's ability to recognize when a woman is faking an orgasm. Sally claimed that men cannot tell the difference, and to prove her point, she vividly faked one as other diners watched. The scene ended with Sally casually returning to her meal as a nearby patron…played by the director's mother… placed her order by saying 'I'll have what she's having.' That had Kaname feeling a bit self-conscious, enjoying Sousuke's touch. Sousuke almost imagined it was Kaname making those noises because of his brushing, and began sweating up a storm.

"This time," Sousuke said, trying to find something... _anything_... to talk about, to quell his uneasy feeling. "No one needs to feel restless this time, because of the issue of Wraith."

"I doubt she's here at the hotel," Kaname said, looking up at Sousuke with big happy eyes. "Even if she showed up disguised as the island hairdresser, I doubt that she would come in and brush my hair like _this."_

"I agree," Sousuke said. "Also, you don't have to worry about being targeted again today," Sousuke said, nearing the end of his task. "You don't need to believe that I'm worried about the stalker incident..." He thoughts were marching in step, bringing up the things that he and Kaname had talked about during that haircut.

"Stalker incident?" Kaname made a quizzical face at first. She thought back to that special day, when she'd trimmed his hair... he'd fallen asleep at the end... and she'd stared at his lips, before shouting that she's rinsing his hair, waking him when she pushed his head abruptly down into the sink. She cleared her throat. Her eyes narrowed and her smile vanished when she understood what and who he had meant. "_Stalker._.. _incident_... _Sousuke_..." She grabbed the brush from him... scooted around in the chair... and began brushing her own hair, speaking in a clipped and frigid voice. ""**I.**..** do**... **_not_**... **want**... **to**... **talk**... **about**... **_them_**..." Not here. Especially not now!

"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke wished that he could read his thoughts on a teleprompter, and be able to decide which words he should speak and which he should not. He'd stepped in something again. As the end credits began scrolling past a high speed, moments before the next show was set to begin, he changed the subject by saying: "That film had a number of wonderful parts-" He sounded like a film critic. "-But it doesn't quite add up."

"Hah hah hah," Kaname said with that patented laugh. "Add up." She laughed again. "Funny you should mention adding up." She stopped brushing. The wonderful spell had been broken. It was time to finish up. "We should probably channel surf now, looking for 'Law & Order' or some other legal drama, in honor of your life of crime." She had pictured the Pony Man, and was none to pleased by that. She had also pictured Wakana, and didn't want to think about the policewoman, either. "At school you stole two science projects… stole the one project a second time… stole a tennis ball machine… not to mention all of those eggs and an Easter Bunny costume. You put on that suit… built a tank… used that tank to shoot the eggs… after training the girls like you trained those rugby guys."

"But-" Sousuke knew that he had been a bit over zealous. "I was doing that to defend the girls, not to cause them any harm. I was doing it because those boys were particularly interested in getting revenge against _you."_ That should earn him some points back, _right?_

"_Why_ did they want revenge. _Huh,_ mister?" Kaname was not in a mood to be charitable. "The boys_ always_ complain about the girls; but, they usually don't go to _war_ with them. With mascots joining in. With left over camera-men who had earlier been filming the mascots for the telethon… filming the skirmish, too!" She sounded as if she were on the verge of frothing at the mouth. "Then… nearly everyone gets hurt or shook up during a big stampede… because _somebody_ blew up some trees. And where did that someone get that weapon… among others? From giant… uh… mushrooms hidden in the watermelon and strawberry gardens. Giant mushrooms filled with weapons. Some pretty powerful weapons. When he is not supposed to have _any _weapons!" She had to stop to catch her breath. "And what else does our hero do with weapons? He gives them to a small attack squad of mascots. Yes, you heard that right. _Mascots._ A big pink bear. A giant pig. A cute cat. A hipster squid. And Retsuko, dear Retsuko. Armed mascots! What could be worse than _that?_ Bombs disguised as Pokemon?" She scrutinized Sousuke's face. His little Sousuke mind wasn't picturing exploding Pikachus, _was_ it? "Don't... you... dare!" If he could turn a theme park mascot into a small A.S., what might he do with plush toys!

"Kaname?" Sousuke asked.

"I forgot one." Kaname said drawing designs on the bedspread with her finger. "The sausage guy. An ... alien... sausage..." She smacked the bed abruptly, like she was spanking someone. "And even poor Shinji got involved-"

Sousuke felt obliged to correct Kaname. "I did_ not_ supply the sausage. He must have happened open a cache on his own." That didn't sound good. It made him sound sloppy and unprofessional when it came to the integrity of his stash.

"Thank you for that correction," Kaname said. She did not sound thankful. "Shinji stole a tractor. He transported an illegal combatant. He was heartbroken, coming so close to seeing Arm Slaves duke it out, before being stopped and taken into custody. Just think how his meeting with his parents must have gone… when they picked him up from the _holding cell."_ She had a distant look in her eyes, picturing something. "He was in the cell next to Mr. Ciocio. He saw Mr. Oonuki. And… s_he _was there too…." She shivered. "Wakana." She shook the brush at him. 'And he was in a cell with some strange drunken guy who asked him if he wanted to play 'Hide the Pickle'."

"Hopefully it will teach Shinji a lesson," Sousuke said. He didn't feel his 'borrowing' of the UTVs was theft. It was requisitioning, the gathering of necessary war materials. "If he ever wants to enlist in the military, he should _not_ have a criminal record."

"**LESSON!"** Kaname's voice rose**. "WHO DO YOU THINK THE ONE IS WHO **_**REALLY**_** NEEDS TO LEARN THE LESSON?!"** She ducked her head, and stayed silent for a moment, after someone in the room next door banged on the wall in protest. She whispered: "Minus two hundred thousand points, for all of that!"

"I-" Sousuke saw things through Kaname's eyes, figuratively this time, not literally. "You are correct."

"Yes I am," Kaname said. Her voice changed. It sounded very vulnerable. "But for so much time, I was scared. I was really scared, Souske." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You were at school as me… to _be _me… so I wouldn't get counted as absent again. It… it was… it was _my_ fault, really." She walked over to the bed, took the pillow, and hid her face there for a while."

Sousuke stood up and walked over to stand near her. He lifted one of his hands up, but didn't know what the appropriate way to comfort her was. He softly threw her own words back at her: "Snap out of it. How could you possibly know what would happen? Yes, you are ultimately responsible. But, you did nothing wrong."

"It doesn't feel that way." Kaname's voice was muffled by the pillow.

"Tell ,me about it, " Sousuke said. When Kaname sat down on the bed, he sat next to her. Of course, she had to strike him playfully with the pillow. Full force directly on the face. "That smarted!"

"Big baby," Kaname said, smiling. How could her change her mood so fast? "Yes, things were bad. And bad things happened. Trains crashing. Temples falling. Apartment buildings evacuated. People burned by explosions. It was really hard watching all that on television. Rock em Sock 'em robots. Those dangerous balls of light. Cannons, knives, grenades. All that fighting, punching, and kicking. Car juggling followed by catch and release. The time while you and Arbalest were pinned. Then you took off into the sky. It-" Tears came to her eyes again. She wiped away a tear with one finger. She stared at it, sparkling the like a diamond in the room light. She stared more intensely at that finger. Precisely, she looked at her fingernail. "Worst of all…you broke my fingernail. Minus one million points?"

"One million?" Sousuke was incredulous. "For a fingernail?"

"It was my _favorite _fingernail," Kaname harumphed. Then, in dramatic fashion she yawned, and with pillow in hand, took down the bed cover, and slipped underneath it. "I think I'm ready for bed. It was a busy day. We have more fishing to do tomorrow, before we fly out." She paused. "And then you need to take me shopping for souvenirs. I at least need to get one for Kyouko." She plopped her head into the pillow. Reaching a hand up she pulled a chain, turning off the light over the bed.

Sousuke, not wanting to watch TV if Kaname wanted to sleep, rolled underneath the bed. The fit was tighter than usual, but he would be fine as long as Kaname didn't get up and use the mattress as a trampoline.

"In case you're interested-" Kaname's voice came from above. "You are now one million… four hundred and forty thousand… one hundred seventy nine… points below zero."

"That many," Sousuke mused. "Is there no way to reduce that number?"

"No," Kaname said, snuggling under a warm blanket. "No way."

"But do you remember," Sousuke said. "When I called you, because I wanted to hear your voice?"

"I-" Kaname felt a wave of warmth ah over her. Then she frowned and lifted herself up on one elbow. "You made me part of an equation. Here. I'll return the favor. The number is an even one million five hundred thousand, now!" She thought a moment. "No. Two million. Thinking about your fight made me think of that Leonard guy, again." She buried her face in her pillow. What she said next only she could hear. "And when you showed up on top of the hospital, it looked like you wanted to hug me, but all you did was hold your hand out for a handshake. Big idiot."

"A comedy of errors, I suppose." Sousuke believed that in the truest sense; but, he saw no reason for laughter. He thought about a return salvo. But, he didn't want to see what Kaname might do if he said 'IT'S HUGE.' But, he was a soldier. A Specialist. He couldn't let her assault go unchecked. "I suppose my biggest error was walking into your ambush. It would have been simpler to accept Tessa's invitation."

"**W-h-a-t!"** Kaname said. The way the bed shook, she must had abruptly sat up. "What did you just say?"

"At school… after hearing all of the sex talk…" Sousuke said that on purpose. "Tessa said: "Tonight… after school….we could do a sleepover. We could paint each other's finger nails and toenails…." He thought a moment. "I wonder what she would have wanted to do if I was back in my _own _body." Point. Set. Match.

"**You don't need to wonder that!"** Kaname said automatically, her animation making the box spring creak. "A soldier doesn't need his nails painted!" She knew that Tessa would want to do more than _that,_ even though she was just as innocent as she herself was. Who knows what she might do, if Melissa wasn't there to restrain her!

"If I took Tessa fishing," Sousuke sounded like he was thinking over the prospect. He wasn't. "I bet she wouldn't take points away from me." He laughed. "She probably give me more points than I could possibly count." There was a thump. Something heavy hit the floor.

Kaname rolled up under the bed, ending up face to face with Sousuke, her eyes very wide, pupils huge in the minimal light. "I like to fish. A prissy girl like Tessa probably does _not."_ She had no doubt that Tessa would follow Sousuke anywhere, even if he wanted to explore the sewers of Tokyo. "If you like… since you brought me to such a nice island… I'll reinstate all of the points."

"Really?" Sousuke looked at Kaname. The way her face looked was indescribable. "Will you…." He knew there was a lot more than points involved. He couldn't fathom the depth of the pain, annoyance, and frustration that must have piled up on top of her over the course of those memorable two days, and the days that followed. "Will you forgive me?"

"No," Kaname said matter-of-factly. "Not one bit." She added: "Not just for taking me on this trip."

"What then?" Sousuke asked.

"A whale," Kaname said. "I'll forgive you if you catch me a whale." The old standards were the best.

"I see," Sousuke said. It was impossible, with rod and reel, of course. But, the waters surrounding Hachijojima were incredibly rich with sea life. Whales and other large sea mammals can be viewed from many sites, even from hot springs. Humpback whales. Sperm whales. False Killer Whales. True Orcas. There were Indo-Pacific bottlenose dolphins, too. "I didn't bring enough money with me to charter a whaling ship." He couldn't do that, anyhow. They weren't pleasure vessels. "I don't have an explosive LAV."

"Too bad," Kaname said, not moving away. 'So sad."

"What if I take you whale _watching_," Sousuke offered. "Instead of fishing?"

"D-e-a-l!" Kaname smiled happily.

Tired, they both soon fell asleep, just as they were.

The crash of waves could barely be heard in the distance. Crickets called to one another, outside their window. There must have been an owl somewhere, too.

"_Sous-kayyy-yy-y,"_ Kaname said softly during one dream. "You shouldn't…."

"Affirmative," Sousuke said, dreaming too.

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*******FINIS*******

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'What a Long Strange Trip It's Been' was the second compilation album by the Grateful Dead. It was released August 18, 1977 by Warner Bros. Records, The title taken from the lyrics to the song 'Truckin':

_Truckin', like the do-dah man. Once told me "You've got to play your hand"  
Sometimes your cards ain't worth a dime, if you don't lay'em down,_

_Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me,  
Other times I can barely see.  
_

_**Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been.**_

That title about sums up this story, Epilogue and all. It's been a journey of five months or so. Many an hour invested for author and readers alike. Only time will tell if it stands as a monument to creativity… stupidity… or both.

**PEACE OUT!**

_-the author_


	25. Special Delivery

Drs Hfuhruhurr and Necessiter were none too pleased being sentenced to cold climates and fermented cuisine. In their truthful moments… which came few and far between… they were forced to blame themselves… or each other… for their perturbing predicament. Most of the time, however, they blamed Anne Uumellmahaye, of course. But, there were times when they cursed the day that they ever met Kaname Chidori and Sousuke Sagara.

Mail was not delivered frequently, and left the frigid facilities with even less regularity. But, there were plenty of blank postcards, and a plethora of Forever-stamps, not to mention veritable piles of Bic pens and Sharpies. Their professionl work was revolutionary, and kept them very busy. The trouble came with their free time. Each had had more than one karaoke machine thrown out into subzero temperatures. Their girlie magazines usually arrived bereft, centerfolds removed in their respective Mail rooms by nefarious nabobs and the sex-starved ran and file alike

That meant that there was plenty of time to dream up all sorts of mischief. With the greatest of good fortune, the fruits of their feverish labors got into the post in record time.

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_A pair of post cards were waiting for the two Jindai High students when they got home from __Hachijojima. The first:_

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**MISS KANAME CHIDORI**

Kaname dearest, I am writing to inform you that Anne Uumellmahaye will 'secretly'be Mrs. Glen Martin by the time you receive this postcard. I felt compelled to let you know that I sent them a wedding present in your name: a large and lovely Italian ceramic soup tureen with platter, handmade In Tuscany

_BTW_: before packaging the gift, I filled it with extra-large walrus turds, hand-picked in Norway.

With much love and affection,

**MICHAEL HFUHRUHURR, PhD, DS**

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_Naturally, Dr. __Hfuhruhurr bragged to his fellow co-worked just what he had done. Taking that as a challenge, the other scientist tried to think of something better. His effort:_

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**SGT. SOUSUKE SAGARA**

I may not seem it, but I am a dyed-in-the-wool romantic, and feel compelled to help budding romances reach full bloom. I also have powers of observation that are second to none, and took the liberty to play the role of Cupid on your behalf. Please, don't feel that you need to thank me for my heartfelt undertaking.

_CC:_ link.*** **www. alloccasions. com

Your fondest friend and confidante,

**ALRED NECESSITER, PhD, ****honoris causa**

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* _Clinking '__link__' on the appropriate website gave access to an eCard that was sent to Captain Teletha Testarossa in Sousuke's name. The card had a beautiful painting of roses, with a subscript saying 'Thinking of You.' When the cover was clicked on, the card opened digitally to a recording, displaying a personal photograph. _

_The photo was a close up of Sousuke's genitals, taken when Kaname was in control of his body and the good doctor had evil intentions. The recording was two words: IT'S HUGE._


End file.
